Researchers of Menagerie
by Arrixam
Summary: Ghira Belladonna didn't expect to see new neighbors move next door to Menagerie. Nor did he expect them to carry arms, possess Semblances closer to magic, or... be able to tame the Creatures of Grimm. He must learn if they are here as the refugees they profess to being, or if they are secretly here to conquer his people. (Cross with original works)
1. Chapter 1

**Before we begin!**

This story isn't relatively new. It was posted elsewhere and I decided to make it into an official story after getting enough attention. Anyone new to my works will... more than likely not understand what's going on. There are elements that come from my original works and I will describe things here and there. But, to be blunt, this story is for those aware of my works.

On with the show!

* * *

It was another day as Ghira loomed over the reports of the island. Menagerie was an isolated archipelago, shoved into the corner of the world and as far away from the Kingdoms as could be. It was a plot of land willingly given by the other Kingdoms for the Faunus to call their own after the results of the Faunus War. It was too small to ever become a kingdom, and therefore too small to be anything more than a small reminder that it existed in the first place.

Be that as it may, it was still a place to call home for all Faunus. Here, no one was discriminated for their traits. Everyone was equal and could receive fair treatment and respect. Power could be given to only those who deserved it. It was as much an island paradise as it was an asylum.

However, the island was simply too small. Though large enough to rival one of the capitals on the mainland, well over ninety percent of the land was uninhabitable. The one and only city on the island had to be positioned towards the western coast. Buildings had to be cluttered, packed tightly, and some stacked on top of each other. There weren't any valuable resources within the desert beyond to expand it.

And there was the crux of his current problem. Sand was getting into the crops and the farmers on the outskirts were competing against nature to keep it at bay. They were requesting more men to help build the fences. They also needed materials to build aforementioned fences. Trees were scarce enough as it is.

It was but one of many problems he had to deal with. He placed the sheet down, stood from his desk, and roamed around the office. His hands were behind his back as he thought to himself. He was the sworn leader of Menagerie. The unofficial and nonexistent crown had been in the Belladonna family since the end of the war. He took his position seriously. But there was a burden as what decision he made today would benefit one side at the cost of someone else's loss.

He wandered about until coming to the window. His large hands rested on the flat of the windowsill. A dry breeze blew across his face. He watched as the people went about their business while his guards kept eye on anyone passing by his estate's boundaries.

His ears twitched. There was a sound coming from outside he wasn't familiar with. It was a low rumbling. He wasn't the only one to notice it as others with heightened hearing were looking towards the east. Their heads were up in the sky and searching. It sounded like a thunderstorm was coming… faster than what should be possible.

He was out of his office and on the tariff of his estate in the next moment. His hands clutched against the railing as his eyes scanned the skies. The howling of thunder was getting closer. Louder. The pitch was increasing.

It wasn't thunder. It was the sound of a vehicle breaking the sound barrier.

His eyes spotted something black in the endless blue sky. It was small but flying at low altitude. Nor was it a vehicle like he thought.

The object in the sky was humanoid. He blinked and squinted his eyes to make sure. Yes, the object was in human shape. A _man _was flying face-forward with their arms down at their sides. Fumes were coming out of their hands and back, creating a distorted tail in the air behind them. The suit he was wearing was completely black. The metal was foreign to him. Not unlike obsidian but the light of the sun did not reflect off of it. To Ghira, it looked like the sky itself had a hole in the shape of a man.

He flew over Ghira's head faster than any bullhead could. He swiveled around, leaning forward to keep track of the flying man. It flew too high and too fast for their rifles to shoot him down but also showed no signs of hostility. Ghira watched the figure lazily turn to the right, reaching the piers and going over the ocean. Only then did he make a sharp turn and fly back the way he came. The thrusters on his back flared and he accelerated faster than before, creating an even louder boom that shook the walls and hurt Ghira's ears.

Ghira could only watch the man fly back over the horizon and be nothing more than a black dot in the sky.

"What in the world was that?" he asked himself. He wouldn't wait for anyone to answer him. He needed to find the answer himself. He stepped off the railing and hurried around the house.

"Ghira, sir!" his head of security was already waiting for him when he entered the main loft. He didn't wait for a response. The two of them moved side-by-side towards the front.

"Reinforce the perimeter," Ghira ordered. "I'm going to the outposts. Make sure Kali and Blake do not leave the premises."

"They'll want an explanation," the man replied. "Are we under attack?"

"I don't know. It was just one unit. It didn't look like something from Atlas but we can't be so sure. It could be some new prototype of theirs. Regardless, it looked like a scout. It flew over the central part of the village before returning."

"We will protect the house with our lives," the man said firmly. "And if we are under siege, I will personally escort them to safety."

"Pray that it doesn't get to that," Ghira said in a low growl. The aged chief of security nodded as he held the door open for him. Ghira stepped out into the blinding sun and was already greeted by the city watch by the gate.

"Mister Belladonna," the young lad was but a messenger. His eyes were slightly frayed with fright. "Do you know what's going on? I-I mean… What are your orders?"

"Calm yourself," Ghira stood tall, towering over the young man. "We must first assess the situation. Lock the city down. We don't need to evacuate the civilians just yet. Send men to the outposts and keep a vigilant watch to the east."

"Yes, sir. Understood, sir!" the boy saluted and looked to his companions and nodded at them. The rest of them had heard and took off running. He watched them go before heading off himself.

The village below wasn't in chaos as he had feared. Everyone was discussing what they had just seen and wondered if it was either a new Grimm or a foreign invader. However dire either thought were, the regular folk were continuing on with their daily business. Some stopped to question him and he put them at ease with a few words and gestures.

He eventually reached the first tower overlooking the desert, a squat building made of mostly sandstone. It was the main station used to open and seal the gate that led travelers into the land beyond. It was rarely used but manned for the rare Grimm attack. What few monsters made it this far were quickly dealt with by archers and riflemen.

Now the post was active with activity. Men and women were up in their stations, overlooking the great wall that protected the village. They were all armed.

"Belladonna," the gruff captain of the watch greeted Ghira. The man had been expecting his arrival. "Not much point in you being here. I've already gathered the men. We're keeping watch and ready in case something comes this way."

"Good," Ghira nodded while his eyes peered up at the wall's edge. "Did any of your men manage to see anything we couldn't?"

The captain made a low growl while he placed his hands on his hips, "Pro'lly no more than you. It got us unawares. Flew past us and into the city before we could react. Lucky it didn't do nothin' else. We barely had time to assemble a firing squad before it left. It headed towards the sands due east before we lost it. The lads think we're expecting an Atlasian assault."

"Atlas has no reason to invade us," Ghira frowned. Though he said this, he didn't fully believe it. The SDC had a reputation of abusing Fanus in their dust mines while Atlas looked the other way. A terrifying thought had him question whether the Schnee Dust Company had assembled its own army and was coming here to acquire new 'employees'.

"Maybe not Atlas, but somethin' is out there," the captain snorted. His voice dropped in pitch as his eyes hardened, "We don't have the manpower for a full invasion. If any of the other Kingdoms are attacking…"

"Assume for now but don't act on it," Ghira told him. "We can't let the civilians go into a panic for any reason. Keep a constant watch and sound the alarm at the first sign. I will defend the wall myself while the guards escort the people to safety."

"That's noble an' all…" the captain rubbed his chin. "But you're the chief. If it gets to that, you need to be lookin' out for everyone else. Think of your wife and daughter."

"I am thinking about them," Ghira said in a solid tone that left no room for argument.

The captain could only grunt in acceptance. No other words were exchanged between the two of them. The man went back to giving orders to his men, relaying what Ghira suggested or doing so as it was always his intention. Ghira roamed around the area, talking to the guards and asking what they saw.

He did this to the next station and the one after that. He made his rounds across the wall, speaking to both the common guards as well as those in charge of their respective towers. All of their answers were the same as his own: they knew next to nothing about the figure in the sky. It had come too quick for them to properly react. Ghira himself had been at the right place at the right time to catch its sudden arrival.

Hours had passed since then. The guards were all armed and ready. Every available man and woman was at the ready, taking brief breaks for water or rations in a rotational shift. Archers and riflemen held their weapons on hand at all times. A spotter would overlook the desert with their binoculars or with their pure eyes if they had a Faunus trait that made their vision superior to their brethren.

"Ghira," he was surprised when one of his private security guards showed up at the wall. They extended a wrapped bundle in their hands. "Lady Belladonna sent me to give this to you."

He took it and unwrapped it. Within was a wooden box stuffed with meat, cheese, and slices of bread. He hadn't been out for very long but he had skipped lunch.

"How are they?" he asked while wrapping the bundle back up.

"She worries for you," the guard said. "But she understands. She is keeping Blake distracted for the time being. Should I relay a message to her?"

He couldn't help but smile. His loving wife. Though they had a staff to cater to their every need, she was adamant about cooking the meals for their family. He would have taken the guards' rations if she didn't prepare something for him. No, he actually wouldn't. He'd go through the day without eating now that he thought about it.

"Tell her—"

Shouting came from the guards at the top of the wall. A panicked shout. Seconds later, sirens began to flare. It was the alarm system used when Grimm were on their way to attack the village. It was only used when the threat level was high enough to possibly breach the wall.

"Get back immediately and see to my family," he ordered quickly. He didn't wait to see if the guard would reply. He rushed to the nearest post and stormed through the tower. Everyone was on alert and rushing to their positions. He joined them, climbing up the steps and reaching towards the top of the wall.

He stood there, momentarily frozen as he saw the sea of black coming from the horizon. A few hundred Grimm were coming from the east. He could make out Deathstalkers and Jakals. Bennus and Apophis. Ammit and Griffons. The worst the desert had to offer was coming their way.

Orders were being shouted by the captains of each unit. The guards readied their weapons, knocking their arrows and aiming down their rifles. Men and women behind them readied their swords and spears. Some shook with fear and Ghira could not blame them.

"What… in blazes?" one of the observers gasped. She had a pair of binoculars with her eyes going wide. She squinted and peered a little more.

"What do you see?" the nearest guard asked her.

"People," she answered. Heads turned. "I see _people _down there. They're… they're riding off of the backs of the Grimm!"

Preposterous. Impossible. Ghira stared at the woman before looking back over the wall. The sea of black was coming closer. He could now make out the white masks and spike protrusions from the evil monsters. And… he also saw rope and wood. He saw some of larger creatures pulling crude sand sleighs. But people? No he couldn't see anyone. At least not this far out.

"Let me see those," he extended a hand to the woman. She leapt at his presence but complied. She pulled the leather strap over her head and handed him the piece of equipment.

He peered through them, focusing the lenses to get a clearer picture ahead. He could make out the glowing red eyes and the blood-colored tribal marks on their masks. And— he pulled the binoculars off and blinked a few times before looking back in— he could make out a humanoid shape on the backs of the monsters. Not all Grimm had a rider. But he saw people in full black gear mounted on a select few. They were all human as far as he could tell.

He focused again to make sure. They were all wearing Grimm masks. At first he thought they were a variant of the Nuckelavee— horsemen Grimm with the conjoined bodies of a demented horse and its demon rider. But as he looked again, the humanoid forms weren't connected to the Grimm. Their legs were swinging about with each step, some riding in pairs, and there was no glowing red in their eyes unlike the other Grimm.

There weren't many. Maybe a third of the Grimm in front of him. Perhaps less. They were also riding on the sleighs, though he noticed some of them were lying down with another person keeping vigilant watch on them.

They were maybe five hundred feet away before the hoard stopped marching. A signal was given from the front and the riders following reeled back on their mounts. Grimm complied. He could not believe it.

Ten individual Grimm approached forward. Now he could make out the better details. They all wore black cloaks too thick for the desert. Those with fairer skin had the hoods drawn while others had their sleeves rolled or coat half-off at the waist. Some had the obvious build of a male while the rest were too difficult to tell.

The one leading the army of monsters wore a pure white coat, impossibly unblemished in contrast to his dirty fatigues. He rode on the back of a Griffon, wearing the mask of one over the top half of his face. His lips, parched as they were, were creased into a long, thin line.

From this close, Ghira could see that his eyes were glowing behind that mask. One was red, the other blue. There was something inhuman with the way they outshone the Grimm's.

"What do we do?" one of the guards asked, looking around.

"Hold your position," one of the captains commanded while cocking his rifle. The barrel was pointed at the front of the pack.

Ghira watched as the young man down below said something to one of his companions. The one he addressed rode his Jackal around, untied one of the many swords strapped to his side, and handed it over to the white-cloaked man. He accepted it, gave another order, and kicked his heel for the Griffon to move forward. He approached the wall alone.

Every weapon on the wall was pointed at him. His eyes examined the armed forces with an almost impassive look. Slowly, steadily, as to not alarm any of them, he began to remove his coat. Ghira watched as he tied the sleeves to the hilt of the sheathed sword… and wave it over his head.

It was… a flag of surrender?

"We have sick and injured," his voice boomed loud for all of them to hear despite the distance. Something on his person was amplifying his voice like a speaker. His Semblance, perhaps? "Can you help us?"

Rifles swayed. Bows creaked under strain. Heads turned toward one another, unsure of what to do. No order was given. Ghira found those in charge were looking his way. They were expecting him to give the command in their stead. They looked as lost as he felt.

It was the burden of being in charge. Even when he didn't have a single clue on what to do, he had to pretend otherwise. Chaos would follow if those below him saw his state of unease.

He had no idea what to do. He was unable to come to terms with the fact a strange group had been able to tame _Grimm_, mankind's mortal enemy. This had to be a ruse. There was a trick of some sort.

"Who are you?" Ghira shouted out. While he always had a loud voice, it wasn't amplified like the one before him. It almost sounded small in comparison.

"We are a company known as the Researcher Symphonies," was the reply. "We are not from around here. We were swept up by a storm and found ourselves on the shore of your island. You're the only civilization we've come across. Several of our men are injured. Some have contracted a disease we don't know how to treat. Can you help us at all?"

"This has to be some kind of trick," one of the captains muttered quietly. "Sir, we can't open the gates for them. They'll overrun the city in no time."

Ghira saw as how the captain spoke quietly, even with the great distance between them, some of the humans down below had their eyes lined up to the speaking captain. Their expressions shifted as though they had been able to hear him. Low whispers were exchanged between them while their eyes never strayed away from the wall. Their leader must have heard, for he turned his head without looking away from Ghira and raised his hand to hush them. They obeyed without hesitance.

"I do not know your company," Ghira called back. "If you require our help… send a representative to the front gates. Bring forth those in critical need. Those escorting them are to dismount from the Grimm and lay down their weapons."

Everyone was watching him. Ghira kept his head leveled as he locked eyes with the young man below. He saw the uncertainty in his eyes. Those eyes narrowed with distrust. But beside that distrust was desperation. Fear.

"I will go," the young man said back. "I will comply with your demands only if you are there to meet me. I want your word they will not be brought to harm."

"You will have it," Ghira said, sharpening his voice next. "But if you step out of line in any way, the guards here have their orders to kill you."

A grim understanding was made between them. The young man nodded once before turning on his mount. He gave orders to one of the smaller figures first before commanding two men to assist her. The three rode back to the main caravan and began to bring forth their most dire units. Deathstalkers pulling sleighs were brought to the front. The leader gave a signal to follow him as he kicked his heel against the Griffon. They all approached the gate at a slow and steady march.

"Sir!" another captain ran up to him as Ghira began to head towards the tower to descend. "You can't be seriously thinking about opening the gates for them! They have Grimm!"

"And that is exactly why I am going to meet with them," Ghira said. "I will only take volunteers to come with me. We all know we don't have the power to defend the wall if they decide to attack. If their intent is true, we might be able to learn something from them. But if they've come to conquer us… I'd rather save lives than throw them away."

"If they've come to conquer us, I'd rather die fighting than be subjugated by some humans!" the captain barked back in outrage. Several of the guards cheered back. But some looked so unsure as they looked at the army of Grimm awaiting them.

The leader of the Researcher Symphonies had ordered the infirmed to be lined up a hundred feet away from the gate. Once they were all laid out, he ordered the Grimm to move back into position with the army. He also dismounted from his Griffon and slapped its side; the creature moving back on its own accord, hissing once but obeying nonetheless.

"Then I will go alone," Ghira said aloud for all to hear. "I understand your fears and skepticism. But know if they have come to assault us, there is little we can do. Most of you will die. If there is a chance to reason with them, if there is a chance to make peace with them, I will do what I must to save lives."

He turned away from the officer and descended down the steps of the tower. He heard the barking of orders from on top, officers telling the garrison to keep their weapons ready. The steps he made felt heavier than usual, as if each boot would cause the wood underneath to crack and let him fall to his demise. It felt as though all of Menagerie had mounted itself onto his shoulders similar to how he used to carry Blake.

Menagerie was his responsibility. His child to raise and protect. It had always been his duty, inherited through both blood and oath. He knew there was nothing that could be done should the Grimm siege the walls. They would all be dead before the day was done.

"Open the gates," he commanded, saying those words before he had even realized he had reached them. The mountainous wooden doors, locked and reinforced by iron, was an imposing figure. "Once I step through, seal them back up."

"Sir, you can't go out there alone," one guard with a spear told him. "What if they take you hostage? What if they kill you? They have Grimm!"

"Grimm cannot be reasoned with," he answered as he looked at the gates but stared through them. He could almost see the man on the other side. "They are mindless and relentless. They hate all living indiscriminately. Yet the one who commands them has spoken out to me. He holds intelligence and can be reasoned with. If I can get through to him, there may be a chance to avoid bloodshed. Open the gates. If I am wrong, my life will be warning enough."

Guards exchanged looks once more. They weren't as disciplined as any respectable military from the Kingdoms. They were a group of volunteers. They were men and women who thought they could live easy lives standing here all day, fools who thought they could earn glory in killing what small Grimm they could without proper huntsman training, or those poor and desperate without anywhere to go. A situation like this had never crossed their minds, nor that of their commanding officers.

The iron tumblers groaned as they were pried open. The doors split open, creaking open just enough for a single man to come through. Guards pointed their spears at the entry, some shaking in anticipation for a siege. No further alarm was made.

Ghira crossed through. However, a surprise came when the guard who questioned him followed through as well as those who heard around them. With their pikes and rifles shaking in their hands, they stepped through the gates with him. They huddled close together and without formation.

The man in the Grimm mask was waiting for them, twenty feet in front of the infirmed. He was smaller than Ghira thought. Riding on the back of the Griffon made him into an imposing figure but the man, dressed again in his pristine white coat, couldn't even reach up to Ghira's chest. Still, he stood in front of his men with his legs spread out and hands at his side. His red and blue eyes scanned the entire ensemble behind Ghira, noting their weapons and their positions.

Those same eyes went over Ghira's shoulder, scanning the top of the wall and the dozens of weapons pointed at him. He kept watching them as he opened his coat. He undid his utility belt, drawing it out to his side for them all to see before dropping it into the sand. He also took out a pistol from a holster and a combat knife from within the inner pockets. He dropped those as well.

"Are you the one in charge or just some idiot they sent to die?" he asked when his eyes fell back onto Ghira's. His voice didn't echo like before. It was a natural voice, albeit surprisingly deep and aged for his size.

His choice of words made the guards behind Ghira tense.

"My name is Ghira Belladonna," he answered, spreading his arms out to show he meant no harm. "I am the chief of Menagerie and represent everyone beyond that wall. I've come to speak with you and to see whether your intentions are true or not. Understand I mean no offense but mean to do this as a precaution. From one man in charge of others to another, I am sure you understand this."

"...Menagerie?" the man asked while his eyes strayed towards those behind him. He was studying them differently.

"Yes, you are on Menagerie," Ghira nodded. "From what Kingdom do you come from?"

"Menagerie," he said. It wasn't his answer. He tasted the word like a drink. "It's a bit of a sick joke, don't you think? Did your people do so willingly or did others name it for you? Either way, I wouldn't be surprised if the name of your race is Chattel."

Ghira's lips thinned. Though sarcasm ran through his lips, the man was curious and without intentional insult. He was merely stating what was on his mind. It was as if…

"Where do you come from?" he repeated the question.

"Not from around here," was his answer. "Very, very far from here. So far, in fact, you wouldn't be able to find it on any map. I guarantee it. Menagerie is not a place we recognize. I have never seen your race before. And your constellations are different from ours. But, if you must know, we come from a place called the American Empire on this little rock called Earth."

"...If you want our help, as you claim, I would appreciate it if you took this a little more seriously," Ghira said in a steady voice. "You can start by taking off that mask and identifying yourself. I have shared with you my name."

"This mask is the only thing keeping the beasts at bay," the man said while tapping the tip of his mask. Ghira saw that some of his fingers were discolored as if they had never seen the light of day. There were also pieces of flesh missing and deep scars running on the back of his hand. "But my name is Chase Lance Rolan. I am the Second Symphony, Commander of the Researcher Symphonies."

As Ghira watched the man touch his mask, his eyes flicked over to the sea of black behind. Huntsmen would create mask replicas of the Grimm they had slain and mount them on their walls as trophies. This was because the Grimm would dissolve into mist and dust when they were slain. To claim a piece of ivory or porcelain was anything but was ridiculous.

"I see," he chose to say. "Is the technology you use to control the Grimm within those masks? Do you come from Atlas?"

"Technology?" he questioned back with a small dip of his head. "I suppose it would be, in a very archaic sense of the word. I can tell you everything we've learned since coming here. I could tell you how we tame the beasts. It's the only currency we have and I'm willing to pay if you can treat my men."

Ghira looked at this man, searching for a lie. There wasn't one. Though his eyes are hard and cautious like a wild animal backed into a corner, it was _because _he was backed into a corner was he honest. Desperation radiated off of him despite the front he put up. He spoke not to persuade Ghira, but to learn about him and see if he could be trusted.

"You would tell us how to control the Grimm?" Ghira asked with heavy disbelief. "Why? Do you have any idea what you are trading? Your commanding officer, maybe your entire Kingdom, would brand you as a traitor for giving out such a secret."

"Because I highly doubt what dollar bills we have would even be enough to afford any medical treatment," he snapped back, this time in irritation. "Assuming you even take our money here in the first place. And _I _am the commanding officer. Our King wasn't brought with us. Fuck if I know where she is.

"We are tired, Belladonna. Tired from the lack of food and water we could find here. We are sick from the local vegetation and the poisonous meat from both land and sea. And we were plagued by these beasts without rest until we were forced to learn how to subdue them. You are the only civilization we could find. I know pillaging through and slaughtering your pathetic excuse of a defense won't cure my men. We haven't the knowledge of the local diseases and poisons.

"The knowledge I offer to trade could be as worthless as a pebble or your weight in gold. Or whatever shiny rock you people value if gold isn't a thing here. I don't care. It's all we have. Can you help us or did I just waste my time?"

Standing in front of Ghira wasn't an ordinary man. Here was a soldier. Here was someone who had seen combat. More than a bandit but Ghira couldn't properly place him under a proper military. A mercenary, perhaps. But here was a man who didn't hide the fact he was prepared to siege them for their equipment.

Desperate but not fearless. He had a healthy amount of paranoia to keep watch of the guards standing near Ghira as well as those mounted on the wall. But it was right at the edge. Who knows what would happen if the man was pushed any further.

"Let me see them," Ghira demanded. "I need to know what I am dealing with."

"Are any of them medically trained?" Chase asked next, nudging his head to the guards behind. "Or at least aware of the symptoms of the local ailments?"

Ghira craned his head around and asked silently through his eyes.

"I-I am, sir," one woman raised her hand. "My father was a doctor and I helped him when I was growing up. I know the basics."

"It'll have to do," Ghira sighed before turning back to Chase.

"The rest stay there," Chase said before turning sideways, his head remained facing Ghira.

Ghira agreed and gave them the command. He gestured for the single guard to follow as he began to approach the row of sleighs. He passed by Chase, who followed him with his eyes, and the man began to follow him half a step away. When they approached, Chase stepped around Ghira and pulled off the sheet covering the infirmed from the intense sun.

The ones using this sleigh were a pair of humans. Two women, one slightly younger than Kali and the other a good decade aged. The younger was conscious but in a fevered haze while the older was undergoing a pained sleep. They both had black pepper spots on their faces.

"This is Grimm pox," the guard said, as Ghira had also suspected. She gave Chase an sideways glance, "Are you telling me you _don't _know how to treat it?"

"None of that now," Ghira put up a hand before she could say anything else. He addressed Chase, "Are all of your men like this?"

"Most," Chase dipped his head in confirmation. "The rest have been poisoned by eating exotic fish. The Grimm pox; does it have anything to do with the beasts or is it acutely named because of the black spots?"

"An old tale," Ghira explained. It wasn't exactly common knowledge as the generations went by. "They say a witch's Nevermore flew through open windows at night and pecked at the sleeping victim's faces. This, however, is nothing more than an illness caused by the fungi growing in damp areas. Swamps or caves."

"...We have been using caverns as shelter," Chase muttered more to himself than to Ghira. But he did address him next, "Can it be cured?"

"It can, relatively easily in fact," Ghira nodded. "As for the poison, we will need a description of the fish your men ate. Most of the sailors know better but we keep antidotes for just in case."

"Then my men will be in your care," Chase said but did not relax. "I will need my medical expert to go with them and learn about the treatment."

"So long as they do not bring any of the Grimm into the city," Ghira said in a level voice. When Chase nodded, he ordered the guard next, "Return to the city and see about gathering some personnel to bring these people for medical treatment."

"But…" the guard said as she looked to Chase, who watched her in a stalwart gaze, to the sickened lined up. When her eyes met back with Ghira, something in his expression must have made her stiffen with fear. "Y-Yes. At once, sir."

She took off running after that. Ghira let out a breath of air he didn't realize he had been holding before returning to Chase. "Once everything is in order, I would like to speak to you."

"A deal is a deal," Chase said as he watched the woman run off. "I will be leaving Amber to deal with the sick. Rose will stay with her as her escort. They are the Tenth and Seventh Symphonies respectively."

He turned away from Ghira to face the group of Grimm and their riders. He brought up his hands and raised fingers for them to see. Seven and ten, followed by a gesture that was a sign command. Two of the riders dismounted from their Grimm and began to march through the sand. One was a lithe figure with the hood drawn while the other was the slender figure with the many swords.

"How many are there in your company?" Ghira asked next.

"Ninety-six," Chase answered, dipped his head, and hummed. "Ninety-five, actually. The First Symphony isn't with us."

"And you said you were swept up from a storm? There hadn't been anything like that. Are you sure you weren't attacked by a Leviathan?"

Chase snorted, "I'm going to assume something like that lies in the ocean? No, Belladonna, I promise you it was a storm. Tornadoes came out of nowhere and consumed us all. We tried to get out of it, tried to outrun it, but they kept coming until… well, we're not in Kansas anymore."

Ghira studied the man in front of him. Nothing was revealed as the man awaited his approaching subordinates. He stood straight with his hands at his side. Only small details told Ghira how much of this was a front. The man's shoulders were slouched and he took deep, steady breaths.

"I want to believe you," Ghira said. "Rather, I want to place my trust in you. I want to believe you come to me with no intent of harming my people."

Chase turned his head to look at Ghira behind his mask. "Fuck do I care if you believe me. The fact is, we need your help. If you can provide it, I will tell you how to tame these beasts— the Grimm. What comes after that we can discuss another time."

"Yes, you're right," Ghira put his hands behind his back. "It might be a long discussion. Your men might need some refreshment. I'll see what we can spare while you and I talk."

Though Chase had been looking at him, something more than just a gaze locked onto Ghira. It was as if Chase _now _had his attention on the man and every exchange before was as real as the mask he wore. This time, Chase— the man behind the mask— was looking at Ghira.

He turned away to look at the infirmed. He looked at the officers marching forward. He looked at the gathering of riders behind them.

"Thank you," Ghira heard him say quietly. He pretended otherwise.

0-0-0

"Ghira, I've heard about you going out by yourself to meet with those invaders!"

"Sienna," a tired sigh escaped his lips as he regarded one of his understudies. Sienna Khan was always there whenever he gave speeches about human and Faunus coexistence. She was as much a critic as she was a supporter. She had protected him when exhibits had turned against him as well as boosting his confidence when he was burdened. She looked up to him.

Now wasn't one of those moments.

"What were you thinking?" the woman hissed at him. "What will Kali think when she thinks about this?"

"Don't bring my wife into this," anger flashed through him.

"I will if it'll get you think straight," she didn't back down and jabbed a finger at his face. "You went out there, in front of all those _humans_ who brought an army of Grimm to our doorstep. What if you were killed?"

"I wasn't," he pointed out.

"By some miracle," she shot back. "You are the chief of the city. You have a responsibility to uphold. People are without direction if you are gone."

"I would not order anyone else out there," he said in a solid tone. "I knew the danger. I knew I might die if the wrong words were said or if they had no intention of making peace with us."

"Peace?!" she gawked and then began to growl.

He cut her off, "But I will not be the kind of leader that will make others die in my stead. A leader must _lead, _Sienna. For if I don't, how do I expect the people to follow me? How do I expect the world to change if I don't provide example and guidance?"

Sienna wanted to argue. He wasn't forgiven. She just had no means to argue against his logic, even if she believed with all of her heart he was wrong.

"The world is changing, Sienna," he said next in a softer tone. "Those people… they can control the Grimm. _If _they truly mean to teach us how, things can be different. We wouldn't need that wall anymore. We might be able to explore our own backyard. No one would have to live in fear of the Grimm ever again."

"...And what if they plan on using them against us once they get what they want?" she asked with a sharpened tone and gaze. "I heard you are treating some of them from Grimm pox. Ghira, what idiot contracts that? What idiot doesn't know how to treat it?"

Chase had claimed to not know anything about it. It could have been a lie. He could have intentionally ordered his men bedridden and let the disease get this far into their system. But if he had the power to control Grimm, he could easily overrun the city. He didn't need to make a deal with Ghira. He could have broken through the wall and taken the medicine himself.

A part of Ghira expected the entire hoard of Grimm to come rushing through once the gates were opened. But they stayed put as the city guards came through and took the infirmed into the city. Another group escorted Chase and a select few of his units into another area. Ghira had been here, right at the great wall. He had been organizing a supply of food and water while considering how to treat Chase and his company.

And then Sienna Khan showed up.

"I don't know, Sienna," he admitted. "But I would rather reason with them if it can be done. Since you seem to know so much, you must know how many Grimm there are on the other side. We can't defend ourselves from that amount. The Researcher Symphonies must know it."

"Some people can't be reasoned with," she said in a flat voice. "Some are just unwilling to listen. Oh, they'll give you replies and fake smiles, but they have their own agenda. You have to think that they're using you for something. I don't believe they came all this way, with _Grimm_, just to treat some of their men."

"Belladonna, sir?" someone spoke up at his side. He turned his head to see an anxious guard. "They're waiting for you where you asked."

"...You're meeting with them?" Sienna's eyes sharpened like a pair of daggers.

"Thank you," Ghira nodded at the man before regarding Sienna. "Yes, I am."

"I'm coming too," she stepped closer to him. Had it been anyone else, Kali would have been furious.

"I had figured no matter what I would say," he breathed out. "Understand this meeting is important, Sienna. More important than some celebrity or government official we've dealt with. All of Menagerie might be lost if anything is said out of line."

"I am aware," she said with a firm voice and a nod. She cocked her head to the side, "Lead the way."

He did, turning to head toward the main tower. It was used as barracks for those rotating shifts at the wall as well as an office space and mess hall. Here was where he had Chase and two of his men escorted into a private room while Ghira gathered his thoughts. He supposed enough time was wasted between the both of them.

Two guards were positioned at both sides of the door with five others in the hallway. They all stood at attention when he appeared and he waved a hand at them to put them at ease. One of the guards opened the door for him and he and Sienna walked through.

The room within was a meeting space for the officers to discuss important matters regarding the wall. It was rarely used as Menagerie was an isolated area with limited Grimm activity. It consisted of a long table to fit all the officers and then some, a projector that could stream live television from the main land, and windows to see out into the city beyond.

They found Chase staring out of the window. His mask was placed at the edge of the table along with the two others' he brought with him. His skin was naturally dark and riddled with scars and pockmarks. It was the face of a man who had been in the heart of violence and survived. The scars made him seem so much older, even as Ghira was surprised to find he was more than a decade younger than him. He couldn't be older than sixteen.

The two others he brought in also surprised Ghira. One was a young lady who couldn't be any older than thirteen with fair skin burnt by the sun, long golden hair, and pale blue eyes behind scratched glasses. She didn't notice Ghira enter as her eyes swam quickly through the book in her tiny hands. The other was a young man Chase's age with reddened fair skin, short blonde hair, and sea blue eyes. His face was plagued with blemishes and acne as one would expect from his age. He noticed Ghira enter but his eyes were transfixed on Sienna.

"What? Never seen a Faunus before?" she glared at him.

To be more precise, he was transfixed by the pair of ears on her head.

"Uh…" the blonde young man dragged out, looking at his compatriot sitting at the table (who didn't bother to look away from her book) and to the air as if it would assist him.

"No, we haven't," Chase said as he turned around. His red and blue eyes glared back at Sienna as a deep scowl marred his face further. "And is that really what you call yourselves? It's really not that better than Chattel."

The girl closed her book and looked up at Sienna. Her brows shot up as her eyes too went straight to the top of her head.

"What… did you just call me?" Sienna growled through gritted teeth.

Ghira coughed into his hand, "This is Sienna Khan. She—"

"Khaaaaaaaaan!" the girl shouted at the top of her lungs. She had quite the pair as it made almost everyone in the room jump. The only one who didn't was Chase, whose brows furrowed further as he knew she would act this way and couldn't stop it.

Ghira looked at Chase for an explanation.

"This is Alice Nyte," Chase gestured with one hand. "Third Researcher Symphony and vice-commander. Conversationally, she's as mature as she looks. I mostly keep her around for her intellect."

Alice gave a grin that was all teeth. It reminded Ghira of Blake when she was five and had drawn her first picture of her family.

"Yes, well…" Ghira needed a moment to regain his thoughts. "This is Sienna. She is a close acquaintance of mine. She asked to be present during this discussion."

Chase hummed at Ghira's comment as he regarded Sienna. "Chattel. It means animals that are—"

"I know what it means," Sienna now bared her fangs at him.

"Then you're perfectly fine with naming yourself after a god of forests, plains, and _chattel _while you live on a floating rock called Menagerie?" Chase asked with a cocked brow. He approached the table, placed his hands flat on its surface, and leaned forward. "Don't get pissy with me when you insult yourself."

"Actually," the girl spoke up as she turned her head but didn't look directly at Chase. "Faunus is the Roman god of forests, plains, and fields. The only correlation he has with animals in general is the fact he makes them able to have babies."

"That doesn't make it any better," Chase said as he gave her a sideways glance. "You know what? You people can call yourselves whatever you want. It's not like we're any better."

"What do you mean, 'you people'?" Sienna's eyes narrowed.

"What do _you _mean, 'you people'?" the other boy countered with a straight face… and a smile in his eyes.

Sienna didn't know how to respond.

"The other idiot is Jeremy vi Ultimo," Chase said in a bland voice. "Fifth Researcher Symphony and, no, I don't know where the vi comes from in his name. He's here because he's also one of the highest ranking officers in our company."

Ghira realized he was dealing with a group of children. Children! These young adolescents had been able to tame Grimm on their own? They were far too young to be a part of any military. Not unless they were a part of some sort of secret experimentation. But that was just his imagination running wild.

"Why don't we all sit down and discuss what we're here for?" Ghira offered with a pointed look towards Sienna. She continued to glare at Chase, who stared back unblinking, before approaching the table and pulling back a seat for herself. She sat down, never once looking away from Chase.

Chase, meanwhile, pulled the seat between his subordinates and disregarded Sienna entirely. He acted as though she didn't exist.

Ghira took a seat of his own as he cupped his hands on the top of the table. A silence permeated the room as everyone took in another's presence. Ghira studied the ones in front of him. Alice was extremely youthful but did well to hide the intelligence and cunning behind those wide eyes of hers. Jeremy looked timid but his body was coiled and ready to act at a moment's notice. Chase hid nothing, openly studying Ghira and anticipating the next phase of their discussion critically.

"If I ask where you came from, will you give me an honest answer," Ghira asked, though he didn't hide how much he doubted to be answered.

"I have," Chase answered. "We had set up camp in this territory called Kansas. There's a small town there with an old facility used by our kind a long time ago. It was enough to house us until we could move on. The Special Intelligence Tactical Hunters learned of our location and staged an attack. We intercepted communications and were able to put up a decent enough counter. However, during the skirmish were we struck by that storm I mentioned. Tornado after tornado struck us, consuming my units.

"We were swept up by the winds. Next thing I knew I found myself being flung into a body of water. Imagine my surprise when I taste salt upon impact when the nearest ocean was supposed to be hundreds of miles away. The nearest source of land was this island and I wasn't the only one who swam to it. Some of us were here before I was. Some of us were scattered throughout the desert before they found our encampment.

"We had to make do with what little we had. But the land is unforgiving. Most of your fish are poisonous. Water is more valuable than gold. Oh, and there's these bloodthirsty black beasts that hit harder than trucks constantly after us. There was also the fact we had to deal with some of our injured from both the skirmish as well as the rough landing when getting here.

"We've been at the eastern coast for five days, hiding in the caves to avoid the beasts and the sun while we licked our wounds. Those that could still fight were put on guard to kill any beast that approached, another team was assembled to learn what they could about them, and another to scout the local terrain.

"On the fifth day, Ultimo was just strong enough to fly out to survey the island. It took him three hours to scan the entire place from coast to coast. Your settlement is the only one. And here we are."

He spread his hands out and gestured at the table.

Ghira remained silent, listening to the story and reading Chase's expression. The young man never lied. Rather, he showed no signs of deception. At the same time, as Chase told his story, he was studying Ghira just as intently. He was paying attention to Ghira's reaction, anticipating something to happen.

His eyes fell down to the masks sitting across of the Researcher Symphonies. One was that of a Griffon's, another to a Jackal, and the third the rare and exotic Afrit. He wasn't sure what expression he had when looking at these constructs, but Chase slid his Griffon mask forward.

Ghira took it as a sign of permission. Chase didn't say anything as he reached out to examine the mask.

As soon as his hand touched it… he jolted back in alarm.

Unrelenting rage had surged out of him like a storm. His deepest, darkest, barbaric thoughts rose out of his core and nearly consumed him. The suddenness of it all was what made him reel back in alarm. He found his heart racing and head throbbing. It hurt.

"What did you do to him?" Sienna rose out of her seat and slammed her hands onto the table.

"Give it a minute," Chase said, raising a finger for emphasis. His eyes kept watching Ghira.

"Sienna, sit down," Ghira grumbled out. It felt like he had been woken early and had to skip his morning coffee. He was grumpy, which was a significant difference compared to his sudden blind rage. "I'm fine. Just… taken by surprise is all."

Sienna gave him a sideways glance out of concern before going back to glaring at Chase. He didn't give her any attention. His subordinates, however, looked tense and were giving him wary glances.

"Not all of us could wear these things, at least not right away," Chase said as he leaned forward to drag his mask back in front of him. "But once we got the hang of it all, the beasts— the Grimm see us as one of their own. As aggressive as they are, they immediately fall under pack mentality and follow an alpha. They follow the strongest of the pack, which would be us."

"What are they made out of?" Ghira asked as he eyed the three masks again. This time… he felt them looking back at him. Something cold swam down his spine. It felt like an intelligence remained within the mask.

"You tell me," Chase shrugged. "I've never seen one of the Grimm be born. They all have these masks."

"I still want to propose my theory on how they're like Cubone," Alice suggested with a chipper tone. She even bounced in her seat.

Chase rolled his eyes but looked at Ghira, "Do Grimm kill their parents and wear their skulls as masks?"

"...No," Ghira said in a slow, almost shaking tone. "The Grimm… just appear. Nobody knows where they come from. Are you telling me… these masks… They're from the Grimm themselves?"

Chase didn't answer right away. Ghira could see him consider his options silently. Eventually, he answered, "They are."

"Impossible," Sienna spoke up, crossing her arms. "The Grimm disappear when they're killed. You wouldn't be the first person to try and rip off their masks. It's a part of them and will dissolve as soon as it's removed from the main body."

"We had the same problem too," Jeremy spoke up. He licked his lips as he looked at his commander, who nodded to grant him permission to continue. "Killing them was the easy part. Making sure they stopped coming at us was the difficult part. They always had a means of finding us. We tried to cover ourselves in their blood to conceal ourselves, but the blood evaporated quickly. We tried to remove the masks by force and don them, but, as you said, they also vanished."

"They're not like normal beasts," Alice added in. Unlike Jeremy, she didn't ask for permission and continued. "A lot of our weapons were useless against them. We had to cheat to penetrate through their skin and natural armor. It was actually by accident did we learn how to control them."

"What do you mean by 'cheat'?" Ghira asked through narrowed eyes. "Do you mean you used some Semblance or technology?"

"The word is lost to us," Chase answered bluntly.

"It means what it appears to be when in actuality is something different," Alice pointed out.

"Yeah, but it sounds like something a little more important," Jeremy muttered quietly to her.

Ghira cupped his hands on top of the table and humored their story, "Semblances are the innate and unique abilities huntsmen have. Some know what the weather will be like tomorrow, some can enhance their abilities further, and some can play tricks on another's mind. They say no two Semblances are the same."

He felt Sienna's eyes on him briefly.

"...Something like that," Chase answered the original question. "We wouldn't call them Semblances. We call them… affinities."

The hairs on Ghira's arm stood up. An electric sensation buzzed in the air. Sienna felt it as well as she suddenly became on edge, coiled and ready to strike. And as if he wasn't watching them earlier, Chase was focusing on the two across with an intensity that dwarfed his previous observations. Now he was searching them, watching them, anticipating and expecting something violent to surge out of them. He watched them as he lifted his hand off the table and put it at eye level.

His two subordinates were doing the same. Alice and Jeremy had their shoulders squared and focused on the two Faunus.

Chase merely flexed his hand and a flame surged out of his palm. He grasped it as though it were a material thing, curling around his fingers and never going beyond his reach. As he continued to stare at Ghira, his red and blue eyes were glowing with an unnatural light.

"You can create fire," Ghira said with amazement. "That's quite the impressive Semblance. I don't think I've ever heard of anyone capable of controlling the elements."

The light in his eyes dimmed out. As soon as they did, so too did the flame. Chase put his hand down flat on the table, "In any case, we used our affinities to deal with the Grimm. But we found the more we used them, the more that came afterwards. We found as soon as we activated our abilities did we become a beacon. Whoever used their affinities became the central focus of the hoard. And when we put them down, twice as many would show up in the next few hours."

"That much is obvious," Sienna said with a shrug. "The Grimm are attracted to those who have unlocked their aura. And considering the state your men were in, the amount of desperation and despair you all had would leave them salivating."

"Aura?" Jeremy perked up at the word. He looked over to his companions.

Alice looked over at the two of them, her eyes wide and full of excitement. "This makes so much more sense! We were right! The Grimm _are _attracted by our abilities. Not just that, but by our emotions as well. We're like an open candy bar to them!"

Chase looked away from the Faunus as he thought quietly to himself. Questions he had before were being answered. New conclusions were being made but even more questions were popping up. Ghira was able to read all of this in his eyes.

"You act like none of you have come across Grimm before," Sienna gave them all a flat look.

"We don't have Grimm where we come from," Chase spoke up, his eyes flashing towards her as his thoughts were put on hold.

"I _might _be able to believe you've never seen a Faunus before," Sienna's tone was cold and quiet. "Just like how we've never heard of your company before. But don't treat us like idiots. We weren't born yesterday. Grimm are _everywhere_. Don't try and pretend otherwise."

"Not where we came from," he pressed. His eyes were as sharp as daggers for a moment. He pulled himself back and reconsidered his approach. "Trying to convince you is pointless. I told you my story. This is how we're here with the things we have. Whether you believe me or not isn't my problem."

"That's where you're wrong," Sienna leaned forward. "Regardless of your _story, _you are a foreign force caught within our territory without request or announcement. You are invaders and it is within our rights to deal with you however we see fit. Enough with the charade. Tell us who you are and where you come from before we treat you as trespassers."

Chase didn't seem to like Sienna's tone. His eyes flashed with a simmering rage as well as literally. The electric current from before was stronger this time. Suddenly, Ghira found it difficult to breath as the air became thick. It felt like it was clogged in his throat. There was also a heavy pressure bearing down on him, making his body both heavy and stiff. It felt like he was being buried in the desert.

Sienna fared worse than him. She gasped as her body was pushed down flat onto the table by this invisible force. She grunted and tried to lift herself up. She was able to get a few inches off before Chase's eyes glowed even brighter. Sienna yelped as her face was pressed back down.

"I've killed greater people for less," Chase's voice was deceptively calm with a bellowing rage barely being kept at bay. "Don't piss me off, little girl. I'm not here because I want to be. I am here because the circumstances dictate it."

"Chase, stop it," Jeremy hissed. He went to grab Chase's shoulder but hesitated. His hand was extended halfway before deciding direct contact was a bad idea.

"Commander, I think you should try to look at it their way," Alice adjusted her glasses as she spoke to him in a calm, almost dispassionate tone. "They know nothing about us just like how we don't know anything about them. They want to learn and are assuming the worst. Isn't that what we would do if it were the other way around?"

Nothing happened for a dreadfully long moment. Ghira saw the cogs within Chase's mind turn as he glared at Sienna. The intensity in his stare faded but a childish stubbornness remained. It was the stubbornness that kept the invisible force alive a little longer. Eventually, with a twitch of his lips turning into a grimace, the pressure died down until disappearing entirely.

Ghira found himself being able to breathe again. As did Sienna, who took a large gasp of air and stood quickly. The chair she sat on was knocked back. She had her hands at her side, reaching for a weapon she didn't have equipped. Instead, her hands were curled with her claws exposed.

Chase regarded her natural weapons before making eye contact once again. They stared at another, daring the other to make the first move. There came another electrical sensation sweeping the air.

"That's enough!" Ghira roared as he stood. "Sienna, stand down. We are not here to fight. We are here to discuss matters diplomatically. If you cannot keep your emotions in check, you may leave."

Sienna glared at Chase and the others with ferocity. But she knew better than to create violence here and now. With begrudging effort, she lowered her hands. She picked the chair back up and sat upon it. She never looked away from Chase.

"And I would appreciate it if you didn't antagonize my colleague," Ghira said to Chase.

"The same goes to her," he replied while looking at Ghira. He spoke as if Sienna wasn't in the room with them. "The whole good cop/bad cop routine is going to get one of you killed. I have already agreed to tell you everything. I am not changing my story. It's your problem if you believe me or not."

Ghira took his time sitting down. He used what sparse seconds there were for him to calm himself. From the Grimm mask to Chase's behavior… no, this whole situation was exhausting him. He was being tried, he knew it. Some great deity out there was testing him.

"You will have to understand what you're saying is… difficult to believe," he chose to say in a careful tone.

"I understand the part about not being from around here," Chase admitted. "I also understand you're asking these questions to decide whether we're potential hostiles or not. Maybe spies from another country? Nothing I say right now will convince you otherwise. All we want right now is for our sick and injured to be treated. If you want, we can leave right after they're stable. You'll never see us again."

"And where would you go?" Ghira propped his elbows onto the table and cupped his hands together. He brushed the knuckles against his lips.

"Literally anywhere but here," Chase said bluntly. He looked around the room, yet those eyes were looking beyond the walls. "I get it's your home but… this place is a living hell."

"Then you'll be returning to your home country?" Sienna gestured with a wave of her hand.

Chase didn't respond right away. His grimace furthered. The other two beside him shared glances and mutual looks of distaste. Chase spoke up, "No. I don't think even if we could would any of us be willing."

"And how would you get off the island?" Ghira asked next. "The nearest continent is Mistral and the voyage there is dangerous. Aquatic Grimm lurk in the waters. Small ships will be swept up by them. And with how many you said were in your company, you'll need something large to transport them all."

"If that's the case then how do you get by?" Alice asked, more out of intellectual curiosity than to counter him. "I mean, the local plants and fishies can't be your only source of nutrients. Plus you have really nice clothes, which means you have access to materials that don't grow here. Unless you have some sort of magic teleportation device somewhere, you've got to have some means of importing goods from other countries."

"We have our means of getting by," Sienna spoke before he could.

Alice pouted. It wasn't the answer she wanted and she was sulking like a small child. It was like when Blake wanted to stay up but was told by Kali it was her bedtime.

Jeremy looked like he had something to say but kept whatever he had to himself.

"Unless you're trying to make a point here, it means you'll be stuck with sharing this wasteland with us," Chase spread his hands with annoyance before planting them back down on the table.

"We needn't be enemies," Ghira said steadily, lowering his hands away from his face. "Right now, my people are terrified. Outside the gates is a gathering of monsters all fear. But they are being kept at bay. They are being controlled— which is something no one has ever thought conceivable.

"You have shown me that even without weapons are you capable of defending yourselves. I understand that if you wanted to take the city, you could have. I have given you my word I would treat your infirmed. But what comes after that? Will you conquer us after you've achieved your goal? Or will you wander off into the desert and hope to find a way onto the mainland?

"Or… will you work with us? Menagerie is home to the Faunus but we do not bar our doors against anybody, human or Faunus. With your ability to tame the Grimm, you've opened up a possibility to explore the land without their threat. We can work together to find new resources and possibly an area to build a second city."

"...Why are the Grimm such a threat to you?" Chase asked as his brows furrowed into a flat line. "You've seen what I can do in this room. You act like it's commonplace. If that's so, then the Grimm should be nothing to you."

"Why are the Grimm—?!" Sienna scoffed but was cut off when Ghira raised a hand to silence her.

He never looked away from Chase as he let his hand rest on the table. "The Grimm have been humanity's and Faunus-kind's enemy for as long as anyone can remember. It takes decades to train someone well enough to use aura to fight them. Even then, the huntsmen are too few in number. The Grimm outnumber us tenfold, possibly even more. While I'm sure there may be another effective Semblance like yours, those are so exceptionally rare they are unheard of. Yours is the first I've ever seen."

He knew Sienna was wondering where he was going with this. He wasn't humoring the idea they never seen or heard of a Grimm before. He was trying to figure out what game Chase was playing and seeing how they would react. He wanted to see what direction Chase would take this conversation.

"...And no one, and I mean _no one_, has ever figured out a way to control Grimm?" the young man asked next.

"Never," Ghira answered simply.

Chase stared down at his hands. His brows furrowed in deep thought. Everyone in the room was waiting for his response, both Ghira and Sienna as well as Alice and Jeremy.

"Basically I'm handing you something that could make you king of the goddamn world," Chase sighed as he leaned back in his chair. He gave Ghira a blunt look, "And you want to use that power to look for prime real estate?"

The thought of global domination never crossed his mind. But now that Chase mentioned something like it, Ghira couldn't help but think how this could be weaponized. After all, he and everyone else on the wall had feared the Researcher Symphonies for being able to control them. The threat of Grimm being commanded to hunt and kill terrified him. And Chase was handing over this leash, so to speak.

"I will never allow anything like that to happen," Ghira said in a hardened voice. He sat up a little straighter as he looked down at the three children before him.

"I might almost believe that," Chase said back. "But can you make the same promise about your subordinates? Or the generation that comes after you? Or when your people are forced into the next war?"

"Then the secret will die with me, if need be," Ghira returned. "But what of you, Commander Rolan? What will you do with the Grimm?"

Chase closed his eyes for a few seconds. In this time, Ghira no longer saw a child. He saw an aged man, exhausted and aching from a burden he had to carry. When he opened his eyes again, the moment of weakness was washed away from him. His eyes were hardened. He had the look of a leader— of one who held the weight of the world on his shoulders and knew it.

"We are scholars first and soldiers second," Chase answered firmly. "We will study the Grimm. We will dissect them until we have them understood at a molecular level. But we will be examining them for both academic reasons as well as for warfare. The Researcher Symphonies was formed with the intention of seeking all forms of knowledge, both sanctioned and taboo. However… we have always been molded by violence and discrimination since its founding. We will be using what knowledge we find to protect ourselves."

Taboo. Yes, that was a good word to describe it. Most research on the Grimm was heavily regulated. The Kingdoms formed a treaty to forbid the act of using Grimm in times of war. Ghira was going against such treaties. But… Menagerie wasn't considered a Kingdom.

"Discrimination?" Sienna scoffed. "You have no right to say something like that. You're human. Unless others know you can control Grimm and have shunned you for it, you have no right to say you've been discriminated against."

"Sienna…" Ghira said in a low voice.

But Chase studied her briefly. Something flashed within his eyes. "Faunus. Menagerie. And the fact this place is a barren wasteland. Your people have been forced to live here, to be forgotten by everyone else. All because you're not human?"

"Are you _trying _to pick a fight with me?" Sienna gave him a warning tone.

"...I was wrong," Chase said, though it sounded like it cost him something to say. "This place isn't a living hell. It's a paradise."

"You're really starting to piss me off," Sienna growled but remained in her seat.

"I'm being honest," Chase looked around the room once more. "Imagine a place you yourself can call home. Everyone within it are similar to you. Everyone is equal. None of you are monsters in human skin. You are just people. Nothing more, nothing less."

Sienna watched him carefully. Ghira bided his time to see where this was going. He noticed how Alice had a thoughtful look while Jeremy was just as curious as he was.

"I will tell you how we control the Grimm," Chase spoke after the moment of contemplation. "Whatever you do with it afterwards is up to you. But you are right about earlier; there is still an afterwards to consider. We are in desperate need of supplies. More than just food and water— we need living quarters, raw materials, and information. You don't have to put up with us in the city. We can make do with a camp outside your walls.

"In exchange, as Second Symphony, Commander and ranking officer of the Researcher Symphonies, I propose a business transaction between us and the people of Menagerie. In exchange of the resources we require, we can provide services for your people. This includes scouting and mapping the territories beyond, locating anything of value to mine and harvest, and… I'm sure the specifics can be discussed later on.

"In the meantime, we will be abiding by your laws as guests. I, and the other officers, will personally take responsibility for any order of misconduct any Researcher commits while on your grounds. However, I expect the same justice to be carried out should any of yours do something against us. We will be your neighbors however long we need to get back on our feet. What happens beyond that will depend on the relationship between us during our occupied time.

"Do we have a deal?"

This was exactly what Ghira had proposed earlier. Chase had only turned it against him and acted like it was his idea. Ghira wasn't sure if this was a bit of immaturity on his part or because Chase was only now considering the proposal himself. He was using Ghira's words for the most part.

And yet… why did it feel like the Dark God himself was offering this deal?

Though he was chief, it wasn't his place to make a decision like this. All of Menagerie ran on a system. He may have the loudest and most influential voice, but the city was _a city_. He wasn't the only one with power behind it. Something like this would need to be discussed by the city's council.

"I will have someone draft a contract for you to review," he found himself saying. "In the meantime, Menagerie can provide provisions for your company as a sign of good faith. Unfortunately, I cannot allow your people into the city with the Grimm so close. I will, however, order the city guards to leave everything you will need to set up camp. I'm afraid none of them will be willing to go near the Grimm. Can I trust yours to sort out those things?"

"That's fine," Chase nodded. He took in a deep breath and rolled his shoulder. "I'm sure you have much to think about. And, frankly, we're tired ourselves."

"Yes," Ghira said but forced back any feeling of fatigue he might have had. "There is much to do in the meantime. I will have someone escort you back to the gates. We can continue discussions when you are ready."

"Don't you want to know?" Chase asked in a somewhat lighter tone.

"Pardon?"

"How to control the Grimm? That was the deal for treating my men."

Ghira placed his hands on the table's edge and pushed himself to his feet. "Perhaps another time."

"You know," Chase frowned. "I might not tell you after this."

"I don't believe that," Ghira looked straight at him. "I trust you, Commander Rolan."

"You clearly don't know me," Chase's brows fell into a flat line.

Jeremy audibly cleared his throat while giving his commander an intentional look. It went ignored.

"You're right, I don't," Ghira admitted plainly. "But nothing will be achieved by distrusting each other. I believe true cooperation and understanding between two people can begin with faith and trust. After all, how can I get to know you if I'm not willing to trust you? You might be a swindler who will attack the city I am sworn to protect at next dawn. Or you can be a man of your word. I am choosing to believe in the latter. Good day, Commander Rolan."

Ghira made to leave. Sienna followed behind him, silent with her thoughts.

0-0-0

"We learned a lot about them," Sienna commented out loud.

It had been a few hours since the meeting with Chase and his direct subordinates. Ghira found himself occupying the office space of a captain, rubbing his face with his hands as the migraine was setting in. He should be going home. He knew his wife and daughter were worried sick about him. They would also be thirsty for news. But he wanted to make sure everything was in order.

A part of him was here to see if Chase decided to siege the walls and kill them all.

"That we did," Ghira raised his head and leaned back in the chair. It groaned under his size and build. "He's just a child burdened with the mantle of office."

"It could all be a ploy," Sienna offered as she paced around the room. "He could have just been some puppet the real commander sent. You're soft for children, Ghira."

"Maybe, maybe not," Ghira recollected everything he learned about Chase. "His irrationality shows his age. But I saw something else in him. It was more than just the scars. I saw a boy who has been forced to be a man years before he should have. Even if it was a ploy, even if he's just a puppet, he acted as the man who would decide the fate of those behind him."

"Can we trust them?" Sienna stopped her pacing to lean against the desk. She sat on its edge and looked at him over her shoulder. "Can we _really _trust them? They have Grimm. They have those weird Semblances. I'm sure we can take them if a fight were to break out but… we'd lose a lot of people."

"We would _lose_," Ghira said sharply. "For the time being, we work with them. I've done all I can to protect this city. All we can do is wait and see what tomorrow will bring."

A pregnant silence filled the office space.

"He mentioned that kid, Jeremy, was the one who flew over us this morning," she commented.

"He mentioned it, yes," Ghira recalled.

"He also mentioned being in a skirmish against another party," she frowned and dipped her head in thought. "What did he call them?"

"The Special Intelligence Tactical Hunters," he supplied. "And no, I've never heard of them before. Perhaps… they're a special unit from whatever Kingdom they come from. Perhaps they were sent to deal with them because they know how to control the Grimm."

"They said they learned that here, _after _the skirmish."

"So they say."

Sienna hummed to herself and thought further. "They're dangerous Ghira. I don't think I need to tell you that. I'm not saying they themselves are dangerous— which they are. I'm saying what might follow them will bring the danger. What happens when they lose control of the Grimm? What happens when whatever they were fighting finds them here? What happens when the other Kingdoms learn what they can do?"

"...I don't know," he breathed out. Sienna and Kali were the only people on the planet he would ever admit this to. "We are damned if they become our enemies. And we are damned if they become our allies. And we might be damned anyways if we ignore them. I put everything I had to not let the city burn today. I may have bought us one day. Tomorrow, they might siege us. Or their enemies do it."

He wasn't sure what he was more terrified of; the group that could control the Grimm or this unknown party they were hiding from. Chase mentioned they had bunkered down before they were attacked. Someone out there was looking for them.

The Researcher Symphonies might be using Menagerie as a living shield.

"I think you should go home to your family," Sienna said in a rare, soft tone. "You've done more than anyone here could have asked for. Hell Ghira, you might go down in legend as the man who stopped a Grimm invasion by himself. I'm pretty sure the guards off duty are already telling your story at the local pub."

Ghira rubbed his eyes with his thumb and middle finger. "You're right. There's not much else for me to do here. Everything was delivered outside the gates and the Researcher Symphonies have already set up a camp."

"Go home, Ghira," she pressed. She stood up and began to head out of the office herself. "Rest while you can. I feel like the whole city won't be able to in the near future."

Without hearing his response, she stepped out.

0-0-0

Menagerie was her home. She knew it inside and out. She knew the city, its border, and its desert. She knew how shallow the reefs were and the best fishing spots. She was born here and breathed Menagerie.

Sneaking undetected in the middle of the night was a walk in the park for her. Even when the guards were on alert, constantly keeping watch on their new neighbors. She circled around the sand dunes until reaching the camp's flank, outside the viewpoint of the watchtowers.

She withdrew her hood as soon as she stepped into camp. The humans were watching her. They all wore the same black coats as they huddled near their fires. Some were running maintenance on their weapons. She made no sign of hostility against them. They all knew she was armed with her bladed whip.

"Can I help you?" someone called out to her as she passed by one of the tents.

She turned to see a man a few years older than her. He was very tall and lean, also dressed in the same black coat that fell down to his calves. His skin was fair and blistered from the unforgiving sun, hair cut short and bright blonde, and his eyes were as orange as a fruit. And glowing like a torch.

"I am here to see the one in charge," she answered. "Can you take me to him?"

"You're sneaking around with a weapon," he said while brushing the hem of his coat back. He placed his hand on a pistol. "And you want to see the commander? Why should I let you do that?"

"Because I have a proposal he might be interested in," she told him, making sure to not sound rude or uncompromising. While she was confident she could best this man, she was surrounded by several others watching the exchange.

"Really?" he gave her a blunt look and raised brow. "That's your sale pitch? Alright, come with me and I'll take you to the city gates. Don't make me use force."

"Tell him it's the woman from earlier," she insisted. "Tell him Sienna Khan is here to—"

"Khaaaaaaaaaan!" several of the Researcher Symphonies shouted as soon as she announced herself. They all laughed right after. Even the man in front of her couldn't hold back the amused smirk.

"Am I some joke to you?" she hissed. "Just what do you people have against my name?"

"What do _you _mean 'you people'?" she heard a few voices echo up and down the row of tents. More laughter came afterwards.

Irritation, embarrassment, and then outrage swam through her. She almost reached for her weapon. It was the eyes of the man in front of her that stopped her. She forced back her ire for the time being.

"Alright just… hold on," the man said as he reached for the collar of his coat. He pulled out a pendant with a small crystal dangling on the chain. He spoke into it, "Captain Gener to Commander Rolan. I have a woman here who wants to see you. Goes by Sienna Kha— Sienna."

Boos were directed at him. She pretended to hear otherwise.

The man, Gener, listened for something only he could hear. He nodded once, placed the pendant back behind his collar, and removed his hand from his firearm. "Alright. Come with me. The commander says he'll listen to what you have to say."

"Thank you," she said and followed him. He turned his back to her and began to head down one of the rows. She could easily kill him with the way he disregarded her. However… the tingling sensation following his trail told her otherwise. It was the same electrical sensation she felt when in front of the three children earlier.

She was led to one campfire. Circling around it, sitting on stones or boxes, were a set of nine people. Most of which were children. Eight of them had the black coat all other Researcher Symphonies wore. But the ninth had the pristine white to separate himself from the rest. Captain Gener gestured for her to take a spot while he went to sit in the circle.

The one proclaiming to be commander regarded her briefly before looking away and stirring the cup of soup in his hands. "I'm going to assume Belladonna doesn't know you're here. Well, what do you want? I doubt you came all this way to sing Kumbaya with us."

She didn't comprehend his reference; probably some song of his home. She chose to remain standing as she addressed him, "I can get you a ship to take you wherever you want."

"...And what do you want in exchange?" he asked, his tone and posture dismissive and uninterested in her proposal. However, he was still too young to deceive her. She had his attention. The others also gave away their intentions with the way they shifted around in their seats.

"I want to learn how you command the Grimm," she answered without hesitation. "The Faunus are oppressed everywhere all across Remnant. Some of which are forced to live like animals and sold off into slavery. This needs to change."

"So you think bringing the army of the damned is your best option," Chase didn't hide his mockery. "You're going to have to offer us something more than a boat."

"Ghira offered you medicine for the most common ailment on the planet," she pointed out.

"And I agreed because we needed that medicine," he turned towards her, his eyes glowing as his anger rose. "I didn't know what I was trading. But now that I do does the price change. Belladonna I trust with this knowledge. He's not enough of a monster to use it. But you? I know exactly what you'll do with it.

"As far as I understand, you Faunus are being _tolerated_. The rest of the world can afford to ignore your existence. Some abuse your status, as you say. But when you bring the beasts to the table, they won't be so willing to look the other way. Those that already hate you will now have the reason to get rid of you forever. And those few that support you won't have an excuse to stop them. You'll be damning your own people to extinction."

"And you think you're any better us?!" she bellowed. "You think they won't look the other way just because you're human. The creatures Grimm are the enemies of us all. You have become all of Remnant's enemy by being able to weaponize them. They will treat you exactly as you say they'll treat us."

"Maybe, but then nothing would change if that's so," he said while taking a spoonful of soup and eating it. He smacked his lips and looked at her once more. "Your people have been kind to us. You've treated our sick and injured. You're giving us food, water, clothes, and a bed. We are being tolerated outside your city walls. You might think this is pity. You might think you're doing the bare minimum courtesy. But to us, this is the most amount of kindness we have ever been given."

He stood and faced her. He gestured around the circle with his tin cup. Everyone was observing the exchange silently… with their eyes glowing. Only two didn't have their eyes lit up.

"We are neither human nor Faunus," he spoke in a voice full of spite. "We are monsters that need to be put down at first sight. Run from us if you can't fight. Kill us if you can. _They _didn't give us any mercy. No tolerance. The best kindness we ever got was a bullet through the skull— quick and painless death.

"Where we come from, everyone would look at us as if we were the Grimm. We can't be controlled. We can't be reasoned with. We will kill you without hesitation unless you kill us first. And they were right. We were forced to become the things they claimed we were."

A part of her believed him. To a certain extent, anyways. She had seen that look before. Unparalleled hatred burned behind those eyes. She had seen it in the eyes of those she saved, those who rallied behind her cause, and in the mirror.

"...Maybe we can work together," she found herself saying aloud.

He stared at her silently, waiting for her to continue.

"Word _will _get out about you and what has happened today," she explained. "Most won't believe it. But there are those who can't afford to ignore such Rumors. They might come with offerings for you to join them. Or they might bring their armies to crush you. Or both and enslave you all for denying them.

"I'm not arrogant to believe my influence can protect you. Nor can Ghira's or the entirety of Menagerie. We are no Kingdom; we have no army or huntsman academy. If the other Kingdoms come for you— no, _when _they come for you, there is little we can do to stop them."

"Then what _are _you offering?" he waved a hand at her with immature impatience.

"An army," she said. "Faunus are all across Remnant. They will stand up and take arms if they believe they have a fighting chance against their human oppressors. They will flock here when they learn we can stand against any Kingdom. With our numbers, the sun will never set on us."

"So what? Menagerie will fight for us if we get in trouble. And in exchange we'll bust a few slave camps and save innocent Faunus everywhere?"

"I'm choosing to ignore your sarcasm," she muttered in a low voice. "But ideally, yes."

He took a moment to drink the soup broth. His eyes never left hers. "_If_ we accept, we won't be using the beasts."

She snarled, "The Grimm is what I came here for. Without them, the other Kingdoms won't listen to us. We can't fight against the SDC by ourselves. We need a reason for the Faunus to rally together."

"Yeah, I know," his brows fell into a flat line. "You offer a boat first and an army second. You either want us off this rock or marry us. It's clear you only want the beasts. But if you want them, you'll be damning everyone on this island. And potentially everyone else of your kind on the planet."

He turned away and looked at his subordinates. A silent conversation was made by the entire group as they all stared back at him. She waited for him. She had more to say, most of which was driven by her frustration, but she will wait patiently for him.

"There is something we need to learn," he said before turning back to her. "We're not in Kansas anymore. I need to know how you and your people will treat us. If you will tolerate us or… treat us like _them. _Tomorrow morning, I plan on giving a demonstration."

"...Of what?" she asked with edge in her tone.

"Al, take her out of camp," he commanded. Captain Gener rose to his feet with a tired grunt. "We can talk about that offer after I see your reaction. If you are what I'm hoping for… You'll find we don't need the Grimm. Good night."

She had more to say. But he had dismissed her as he sat back down on the crate. He looked so many years younger as his feet couldn't reach the floor. There was also the overbearing presence of Gener standing over her, breathing down her neck. He was giving her a pointed look.

She nodded once to the group before looking at Gener. He nodded back and started to walk off. She followed close behind.

"Oh, Khan."

She turned around. Chase was looking at her over his shoulder.

"We're neither human nor Faunus. Where we come from, we are called Acolytes. Remember that tomorrow."

0-0-0

The alarms went off first thing in the morning. Ghira bolted out of bed with Kali quickly behind him. She knew what to do. With a quick kiss and a wish to be careful, she hurried towards Blake's room. They would be taken by his security into the bunker. They would be kept safe.

His worst fear was coming true. The Researcher Symphonies were laying a siege on his city. The civilians were in an uproar as the Grimm alarms continued to flare throughout the public system. He pushed by them, hurrying toward the wall to see what was going on. He prayed he was wrong.

"Ghira," Sienna was there to meet him when he climbed the nearest tower and peered over the wall.

It was still earliest dawn. The light of the sun was creeping over the horizon. Thick clouds blocked the sky but a thin line of light peered through. And there, at the horizon, was the ocean of Grimm coming this way. Their numbers transcended what the Researchers originally brought.

The men beyond the wall were standing in formation. Their black coats swayed with the wind as they all donned the Grimm masks. A haze distorted their appearance. Some had their hands spread while other clasped as if in prayer. They were drawing upon their aura to summon the Grimm.

He saw a flash of red and blue beyond. Chase was looking this way. Upon spotting Ghira, he turned his back towards the wall and stepped out of formation. He, as well as two others, approached the oncoming onslaught of Grimm.

"Evacuate!" Ghira shouted out at the top of his voice. "Abandon your positions! See to the safety of the civilians! Get them off the island!"

"Wait," Sienna said in an unnaturally calm tone.

"Wait?!" He spun on her. "Sienna… you were right. Look at what's in front of us. We can't afford to wait. The city is lost."

"I said wait!" she barked at him. "I went to them at night. I spoke with them. He wants to show us something. And, honestly Ghira, do you think we have enough time to escape?"

That was the grim reality. No, they couldn't escape. The pier was too far away and there weren't enough boats for the whole city. The best they could do was put up a final assault. A last stand before their inevitable demise.

He had never seen so many Grimm before. He wasn't sure how long this defense would last. Ten minutes? Five? Many of the guards had dropped their weapons and ran as soon as he gave the command. Some of the captains too. Only the stubborn remained… and those too petrified to move.

Chase and his two others were between the coming Grimm and his company. They spread out. Ghira blinked; the one on Chase's right suddenly had a scythe and the one on his left had a glaive. Those weapons came out of nowhere. They had to be mech-shift weapons hidden beneath their coats.

A savage roar came out of Chase, echoed by the same ability used to speak over the wall. It was the sound of a man standing his final ground, challenging all others to come at him. It belonged to a man who had lost everything and would take as much with him before he perished. It was the scream of a man enraged to the point of madness.

Impossibly, the Grimm's advance stopped.

A fiery explosion erupted at the first wave of Grimm. It wasn't the first as a chain of explosions went off, spreading out as the first detonation triggered another and another. A large chunk of their numbers were dwindled in only a few seconds.

The man with the scythe howled; this one full of excitement. His scythe lit up with arc lightning, streaming behind him as he dashed forward with superhuman speed. He crashed headfirst into the legion of Grimm. Each swing of his scythe created a bolt of lighting that split the air. Every Grimm in his path and beyond were incinerated.

The last member at the front was hesitant. Ghira saw him scratch the back of his head as if trying to convince himself to carry on. He eventually did, grabbing hold of his weapon with both hands and swing it across the sand.

They all watched as the ground split open in a great crevice. Grimm by the dozens were being swept on, falling into a chasm before another swing sealed the land shut. He swing once more, this time creating spikes of sandstone that penetrated through the Grimm from underneath.

But such display of power only seemed to rile up the Grimm. They charged forward in a frenzy. Chase was there to meet them, hands spread out and taking steady steps forward.

No Grimm ever reached him. None came close. They tripped over another. Some stopped moving altogether. Those few that reached further than their brethren were rendered petrified. They were frozen in place in a running position, sliding and slamming into another before stopping dead.

Unbelievably, in the first time in the history of Menagerie, it began to snow.

Ghira and those brave or foolish enough to remain at the wall watched as three men took on what would require an army of huntsmen. This went beyond the use of Semblance.

It was as if magic had returned to Remnant after a thousand years.


	2. Chapter 2

"Have they demanded anything of us yet?" asked Roygaris, one of (if not the) wealthiest merchants in Menagerie. The only reason why he had a seat on the council was because he managed most of the imports from the other Kingdoms. The man, an orangutan Faunus with bright orange hair, was sank in his seat while he nervously fiddled with his fingers beneath the table.

"Nothing but a few trivial things," Akela, the head captain of the guard and a wolf Faunus, stroked the patches of his beard. "Food other than rations, sweets in particular. Reading material of any variety. Maps of the world and of the Kingdoms. And trash."

"Trash?" Ghira asked with a raised brow.

"Scrap metal in particular but were content with it being anything that doesn't decompose, like food," he elaborated further. "None of these requests were made officially. My men have reported to have been approached by individual parties in private."

"Any _official _demands, then?" Winnfred, an elephant Faunus with his tusks filed down and studded with gold, huffed and snorted at the same time. He was beyond his age, having been Ghira's grandfather's advisor at Menagerie's establishment. He was showing signs of alzheimer's but was too stubborn to acknowledge it, let alone step down from his position as a council member.

"They have not made any as of late," Ghira informed the table. "I have spoken to Commander Rolan numerous times since… their demonstration. All he has asked of me is the status of the infirmed. He has not made any formal requests nor has he made any suggestive comments."

"I don't believe for a second they want nothing more from us," Roygaris shifted in his seat. "It's been three days. What have they been doing all this time?"

"Making themselves comfortable," Akela answered plainly. "They are openly using their Semblances to turn our doorsteps into their new home. They've turned the sand to stone for foundations and housing. I've seen them turn sawdust and splinters into stable logs and planks. I can imagine what they will do if we give them the scrap metal they requested."

"They plan on making a permanent residence at _our _feet?" Winnfred's eyes flared. "Don't be so naive. They are building a bunker! Our arrows can rain down on them at any moment."

"_If _we are stupid enough to fight them," Akela countered with a sharp gaze.

Winnfred sat a little straighter, "These are invaders who brought _Grimm _to our backdoor! You think we should lie on our backs and let them walk over us?!"

"I think it's best we make peace with the freaks that can change the fucking weather," Akela said in a low and pressed voice. He pointed to the row of windows beyond them.

Normally, the windows would have been open. This part of the island was hot and humid. However, the shutters were pressed tight to keep the snow and bitter winds from blowing through. It had been three days and Commander Rolan's spell had not let up. The clouds had parted long ago with the intense sun beaming down on the city, but the snow continued to appear out of thin air.

Menagerie was a continent with one third tropics and the rest desert wasteland. They had built the city around the terrain and whatever Mother Nature could throw at them. But this? The buildings were designed for heat and thus weren't insulated to keep the cold out. The streets weren't made to handle snow. The _people _weren't able to handle the snow.

Everyone thought the world was ending. Snow in Menagerie. People were in a panic, demanding answers from him and demanding he fix it as if it were physically possible. So many had tried to flee the island and the commotion forced Ghira to execute martial law.

Sand they could deal with. Snow was a whole different breed of Grimm.

At least Blake was having fun, always playing in the gardens with something she had never seen before; as with any other innocent child.

"Gentlemen," Ghira spoke up in a firm and strong voice before chairs would go flying. Again. "I understand these past couple of days has been trying for all of us. Our… guests have shown us many great things that we thought were impossible. They have displayed to us they have a means of controlling the Grimm as well as possessing Semblances that can manipulate the forces of nature. We cannot challenge them. The reason for our gathering today is to discuss what we are to do with them."

"Yes, and that's what leads us back to the start of our discussion," Roygaris waved a hand across the table as he all but rolled his eyes. "What are the demands of our overlords?"

"Commander Rolan has explicitly stated he only wishes for cooperation," Ghira said pointedly. "His company is willing to offer their services in exchange for daily necessities."

"Jacques Schnee said the same thing before our brothers were collared and sent to his slave camps," Roygaris snorted back. "Excuse me. His _dust refineries._"

The room fell silent. Ghira remembered when the Schnee Dust Company was a small no-name business set on making dust available to everyone across Remnant. Then, Jacques Schnee inherited the business and made it into the monopoly it was today. But such expansion did not come without its costs. It came in the form of heavy labor with legally minimum pay. The only ones who were desperate enough to accept such terms were the Faunus, whose families were still recovering from the Faunus War nearly a century ago.

They all saw the signs of a second Jacques Schnee at their doorstep. Commander Rolan, for all his talk about cooperation, had given them an ultimatum. They would have no choice but to listen to any demand he would make. Or be swept away by a tide of Grimm and sorcerers.

"Then I believe it is in everyone's best interest to make sure something like that doesn't happen to Menagerie," Ghira said in a heavy voice. "The demonstration was nothing more than a warning while we are tending to their infirmed. The Researcher Symphonies, I believe, are just as scared of us as we are of them."

Winnifred snorted, huffed, and hacked all at once. "Scared? Who said anything about being scared of a bunch of human children?"

"I do," Ghira looked at him with piercing eyes. "I will be the first to admit I am terrified of their power. They have shown what they can do if we betray their trust. I would like to avoid that at all costs."

"Even if you will have us lick their feet?" Roygaris growled.

Akela said nothing as he observed Ghira, stroking his beard in a controlled rhythmic movements.

"We cannot defy them, but nor will we serve them," Ghira said, looking at each individual at the table. "I will speak to Commander Rolan once more. I will bring him to this table if I must to confirm his intentions. I wish to make peace with them and treat them as equals. That has always been the dream of Menagerie."

"And if their intentions are untrue?" Akela asked as he leaned forward, cupping his hands on the table and looking at Ghira with a just as piercing gaze.

Ghira stared back with equal measure. "Then we'll have to ask them politely to leave."

0-0-0

"Fort Squidward is all but impenetrable!" shouted one of the Researcher officers. The… Ninth Symphony, if Ghira remembered. He planted a boot on the top wall of his snow fortress, towering up at an impressive fifteen feet. There were even stairs made out of snow for anyone to climb up on the other side. "Bring it on, Germs. Bring. It. On!"

Around him were Fanus children, armed to the teeth with snowballs and makeshift slings.

Across the field was an equally impressive fortress of snow with another small army of Faunus children. This one was being led by Jeremy vi Ultimo, the Fifth Symphony. He used a pair of binoculars while pointing out the flaws in the Ninth's defenses.

"Lieutenant Tuskan," Jeremy lowered his binoculars as he commanded the boar child beside him. "You may fire when—"

"Attack!" the child bellowed and threw his snowball forward. The other children shouted and threw their artillery. Not one of them bothered to aim at where their commanding officers had pointed towards. Some snow fell on other children but they all pretended the hit didn't count and fired again.

"Mister Ghira," he heard the crunch of snow approaching him before her voice. "Welcome back. Are you here to see Master again?"

Ghira turned to face the Eleventh Symphony, a very young teenage girl with bubblegum pink hair and sapphire eyes. She had introduced herself the other day as Rose li Red and yet everyone in the Researcher Symphonies referred to her as Pinky. Ghira addressed her professionally.

"Hello again, Miss Li Red," he dipped his head to her. "As a matter of fact, I am. I was just stopping to watch the children play. Did Commander Rolan make all this?"

"The snow, yes," she bobbed her head around rather than nod. It was a habit he had seen more from Vacuo than Vale or Mistral, where people of her appearance were commonly found. "He made a little more for the children to play. But don't ask him about it. He'll get mad and deny it all. As for the structures? We have a few Frost Acolytes in our company. They're the ones that made the playgrounds."

Ghira nodded as his eyes went to the black-cloaked men and women behind both armies. While a child brought buckets back and forth from the front lines, a Researcher or two was molding the snow around them into perfect spheres and piling them within. The occasional stray snowball landed near them; any direct hit had the ball dispersing harmlessly by an invisible shield.

"If you'd like, I can take you to him," she offered him a friendly and sweet smile.

"I would appreciate it, thank you," he returned. This exchange was more out of formalities than anything. He was the one coming to their camp unannounced. She bobbed her head a few more times before heading off. He walked two steps behind her.

The snowball fight took place in the outskirts of the Researcher's camp… or should he call it a village now? Tents were still pitched but he saw units working on huts and squat houses. He also knew on the other side of the camp was a mounted defense, created from the scraps Menagerie had provided and what else the Researchers had found on their own. There, men and women fended off the Grimm that were naturally attracted to their magical presence. And they were slain with magic for the guards on the wall mount to see.

Ever since the demonstration, there hadn't been any Grimm in the Researcher's company.

Regardless, the Eleventh Symphony didn't take him towards the camp. She took him around its edge and towards another play area.

Here was a more open field of snow with more children playing about. Some were tossing snowballs, some were building snowmen, and others were chasing the other in their own games. There was, however, a large mound of snow piled up high that the children climbed and slid down. One side of it was smoothed out in a layer of ice.

Commander Rolan was sitting away from the playing children, legs crossed and head bowed in meditation. Each day Ghira met him did the Second Symphony look healthier. His cheeks were no longer sunken (though his eyes were still darkened from clear signs of insomnia) and there was more color in his skin. The days of rest had been good on him. However… Ghira couldn't help but notice he looked healthier than his subordinates.

"Belladonna," Chase lifted his head to address Ghira. He unfolded his legs and began to rise to his feet.

"Good afternoon, Commander Rolan," Ghira greeted the young man respectfully. "Forgive me for intruding but I was hoping we could talk."

"Has anything changed?" he asked while patting the snow off of his white coat. Not a single speck stuck to him. He then straightened his front, his collar, and then his sleeves; making sure every inch of his uniform was perfectly in place.

"Not since last we spoke," Ghira assured him. "However… there is a concern about the weather. It's been three days. Menagerie and its people are not accustomed to the cold. Some are able to adapt," he nudged his head towards the playing children. "But others not so much. I believe you've made your point and was hoping… Blake? What are you doing out here?"

When he gestured towards the children, he spotted a head full of black hair. It wasn't unusual as there were dozens of children with pure black hair. However… a sort of paternal instinct told him he knew this specific shape and shine. When he looked again, he had spotted his daughter rising up to the top of the slope and about to dive down its side.

As a daughter who recognized his voice (and knew she was in trouble), the little cat Faunus froze. She rolled off the side to hide from him… but peeked over the top to see if he was still watching. He was and she ducked back down.

"That one yours?" Chase asked with a quirked brow.

"My daughter. Blake," Ghira said in a weary voice. "She was supposed to be with my wife back home. I don't know how she got through Kali's attention. Or the guards'."

"Kids have a way of getting around adults," Chase shrugged. "We still haven't figured out how one of them snuck out here. We let them play before sending them back home. Because, like hell do we want to deal with you thinking we've kidnapped them. But then more of them show up the next day. And then more the following. Then… this."

He spread an arm across the field. Dozens and dozens of children had turned the Researcher camp outskirts into their playground.

"If only the council could see this," Ghira breathed out. "They might be a little more… tolerant of your arrival. But, to be frank with you, you've put them on edge. They think you're setting up a base to siege us."

"We _are _setting up a base," Chase returned his gaze to Ghira, his eyes glowing dimly as a trickle of his power seeped from his skin. "The only difference is if we need to use it to siege you. We are just as on edge about all this as you are. Maybe more, maybe less. I still don't know if I can trust you, Ghira."

"If that is true then you can easily turn these children into hostages," Ghira said calmly, stilling his beating heart as a deep dread chilled him. As he watched the children play, he paid exceptional attention to Chase's response.

"Hostages," Chase tasted the word as he crossed his arms. "No, Ghira, we wouldn't. We can't afford to take them hostage. We simply don't have the resources to hold them. With that said, you could just as easily take our sick hostage. Why would I risk my own with something like this?"

"I do not want for it to come to that," Ghira said in a voice that almost betrayed his relief. Chase didn't show any reaction if he had noticed. "You came to us in a time of need and we have been as hospitable as we can be."

"And you want something in return?" Chase gave him a sideways glance. "That was part of our agreement. The Researcher Symphonies will provide its services to the people of Menagerie in exchange for your hospitality. And you're right, I believe I've made my point across. Give me a minute to—"

"M-Master?" Rose li Red stepped up. "Pardon me but… the children are playing still. Maybe you should let them play a little longer before recalling your technique? Another hour or two of playing won't harm anyone, would it?"

Chase's brows furrowed. Ghira wasn't sure if it was because the Eleventh interrupted him or tried to change his plans. In the end, he waved a hand towards her before crossing his arms again. "Fine, fine. Go and inform everyone then. I'll retract the snow in… two hours."

"Yes sir!" she clicked her heels together and saluted, bringing her fist to her chest. Her smile was as excited as any other child's. "At once, sir! Very good, sir!"

"Go away," he told her in an annoyed voice.

She curtsied at Ghira before running off towards the nearest Researcher officers.

"Just like that?" Ghira asked with amazement. "You can make the snow disappear as easily as it came?"

"It's difficult to create but disgustingly easy to get rid of," Chase answered as he looked about the field. "I'm using my own power to create and keep it here. All I have to do is turn off the juice and reality will do the rest."

"I'm not sure if slush and mud will be any better than the cold," Ghira muttered. "Melted snow on sand will be a new experience to deal with."

"There won't be," Chase told him flatly. "All traces of the snow will vanish completely. It'll be as if it was never there to begin with."

Ghira eyed him. He tested something, "You mean just like magic?"

"The only actual magician among us is Pinky," he pointed a finger where the Eleventh Symphony ran off to without uncrossing his arms. "We're Acolytes. Our abilities have a set of rules and physical limitations. We can only perform feats if our bodies are able to withstand the physical strain."

Ghira was wondering why he was telling him all of this. Chase had admitted multiple times he saw Menagerie as a potential enemy. Why give away the secrets of his people and their magic? Ghira wanted to believe Chase trusted him. But he couldn't help but feel there was more to the picture.

"And you're saying you alone can make it snow, in a desert, for three days?" Ghira asked next.

Chase gave him another sideways glance, "Why do you think I'm commander at my age?"

Ghira hummed to himself. That little response told him so much about the philosophy of the Researcher Symphonies. It also told him a vague measurement of Chase's capabilities compared to that of the other Symphonies and their subordinates.

"What are you really here for, Ghira?" Chase asked as he went back to watching the children.

Seeing as she wasn't in immediate trouble, Ghira watched his girl continue to play with the others. She would glance at him here and there in fear of his retribution. It would come, in due time, but for now he would indulge her. She soon fell into a comfortable carelessness with everyone else.

"I want you to come into the city and speak in front of the council," Ghira told him in a firm voice. "I want you to confess to us your intentions. No more games between us. I wish to discuss the terms of our compliance between Menagerie and the Researcher Symphonies."

Chase didn't say anything as he stared out into the open. He was no longer watching the children as he quietly thought to himself. Ghira stood at his side, doing much of the same, though found himself wandering towards Blake. They remained there for a few minutes.

"If there is going to be a discussion before your council," Chase spoke up, "then I will be bringing with me the officers. There are ten of us and we each lead one section of the order. I will not decide anything on my own."

"Will that include your Seventh and Tenth Symphonies?" Ghira asked. The Tenth Symphony was tasked with overseeing the infirmed while the Seventh acted as her guard. Both were already in the city.

"I value their opinions as much as the others'," Chase responded dryly. His brows furrowed as he caught what he said. "Don't tell them I said that."

"Of course," Ghira nodded with a smile in his eyes. Despite his youthful appearance, there were times when Ghira forgot he was speaking to a child of a man. Chase would be a first or second year in a Huntsman academy in his age. "How much time do you need?"

"The sooner we have this discussion, the better," Chase craned his head to fully look at Ghira. "For the both of us. We need to know whether we are welcome here or not… and plan accordingly."

The hidden message wasn't missed.

"Tomorrow, then," Ghira told him. "There is… one more matter I wished to discuss with you. When we first met, you mentioned something of an enemy. I'd like to hear more about them."

Chase glanced up at him through narrowed eyes and a furrowed brow. Ghira felt a pressure coming from those eyes; like a needle trying to penetrate his skull and reach the brain. He did not back down as he met Chase's gaze. The pressure increased as Chase's eyes glowed brighter.

Slowly, steadily, like a wolf wary of the hunter letting them go, the pressure retracted. Chase's gaze did not soften any lighter, however.

"The Special Intelligence Tactical Hunters," he spoke quietly, almost afraid of mentioning their name out in the open. "You mentioned once that the only way to deal with the Grimm are by hiring qualified huntsmen, is that correct?"

"For the most part, yes," Ghira nodded, studying Chase and listening to his words closely.

"Where we come from, we were considered the Grimm. And the Tactical Hunters were our natural enemy. Our entire species were on the brink of extinction because of them."

0-0-0

"This is special unit Delta-Echo-Three. Reaching out to any other unit in the area. Hello? Hello! Do you read? Call sign: Mounted Raven."

He waited to hear the response 'Nevermore'. All he got was static.

"Dammit," Shade class operative, Lance Corporal Philips turned off the transmission with but a thought. His HUD continued to tell him there was no signal in the area. He couldn't find any satellite, cellular, Wi-Fi, or even _radio _connection. The only signal he could get was the short 6G waves his suit and those in his unit produced.

"No luck?" asked his fellow agent without a shred of expectancy. He didn't know his actual name, as they didn't know his. This one was known as Club.

"Empty static," Philips wanted to rub his face in frustration. But they were in foreign territory without any support. Removing his helmet was asking for him to get sniped. "I can't get anything in or out. We completely lost communication with HQ."

"It's as if we're in a tunnel," Jack said, manually fiddling with the pad on his helmet where his ear would be. Philips didn't know what he was doing other than scrolling through a menu. He put his hand down with his body radiating frustration. "Fucking Acolytes. Leave it to them to summon a storm and blow us all to shit. Can't even get a word in on any other squad."

"At least you boys are together," said an agent who hadn't been part of Philips' squad. He was a completely different class too with a different suit of armor and gear. This one had introduced himself as Royal Flush, which told everyone bundled together his true worth in the military. He was part of the End, a unit only the emperor himself could command. He was currently their commanding officer.

They were all huddled around what remained of their carrier chopper in the middle of a forest. The crash would have killed them if they weren't all suited up. They were sure the crash would have drawn attention and they were ready to gun down any Acolyte to come their way. But after an hour of eerie silence did they start to act.

"Sitting on our hands here is going to get us killed," Jack said aloud. "Those damn Acolytes are still out there. Permission to roll out, sir."

Royal Flush turned his head towards him. "And why are you asking me?"

The three Shade units glanced at each other through their visors. Jack returned with, "Because… you are the highest ranking officer here, sir. Even if you are not part of our squad, you are to assume command given the situation."

"Yes, I would," Royal Flush gruffed. "However, I am not the highest ranking officer."

Their attention roamed over towards the one unit who had yet to say anything. He was away from the group, crouched low and staring off into the distance. His suit was different from there's. Sleeker, more mobile, more compact, and without a doubt top of the line. They had no idea who he was, what unit he came from, or even what class he specialized in.

They had demanded an answer out of him at gunpoint when he first appeared. He could have been an infiltrator— an Acolyte pretending to be one of them. He disarmed their weapons and deactivated their suits. It was only then did Royal Flush appear and tell them all to stand down.

Only now was Philips realizing he was telling _them_. Not this strange unit.

"Who is he?" demanded Jack. It wasn't the first time and Royal Flush had silenced him before. He wasn't going to be ignored a second time.

Philips exchanged a look with Club. Both of them waited to see how this would unfold.

Royal Flush's gaze could be felt behind his faceless visor. He said nothing as he contemplated whether to answer or not. He came to his own conclusion, "I was ordered to follow his lead by Emperor Xed directly. You will refer to him as Specialist Joker. That is all you need to know, soldier."

"What class is he?" asked Club.

"That is all you need to know, _soldier_," Royal Flush said with a low growl.

"With all due respect, sir," Jack spoke up with sharp defiance. "But we should at least know what he is capable of. I cannot follow a man to death knowing he cannot watch my back."

"And you would follow me instead?" Royal Flush sneered. "You know nothing about me, boy."

"I know from your name you are part of the End. I know from your armor you are of the Juggernaut class. That is enough for me."

All Special Intelligence Tactical Hunters were given weapons and armor suited for their needs and specialties. The Shade class was given tight body suits with minimal armor plating for the purpose of stealth and mobility. The Juggernaut class was the complete opposite with three times as much plating as theirs with robotic attachments to further enhance their augmented physical feats. However, there was always one universal similarity no matter what division they belonged to; their helmets always completely covered their heads in a smooth dome and hid their faces from all.

The armor was also black, made out of a synthetic metal called umbrium. It was a secret only the emperor and his personal select few knew how to construct. The metal did not reflect light, making it appear pitch black to the naked eye.

"...Do the two of you share this view?" the officer turned his head towards Philips and Club.

"I only care about killing Acolytes and getting out of here alive, sir," Philips answered. "I don't care who leads so long as the best man is for the job."

Club threw up his hands and gave an audible sigh, "Permission to speak freely, sir?"

"Granted."

"The emperor doesn't know what it's like to be behind enemy lines. This guy might be the best of the best or just some kid top in his class at the academy. But I don't know that. I ain't seen him in action and I've heard nothing about him. You I know at least by reputation. I'd put my stakes in that over an unknown any day."

Royal Flush was quiet for a moment before turning his attention towards the specialist. "Specialist Joker, permission to assume command temporarily."

Joker didn't say anything. They weren't even sure if he heard Royal Flush. But a moment later did a message pop up in all their HUDs.

_[Confirmed._

_Transferring command of unregistered squad to special operative -ROYAL FLUSH-_

_Complete._

_Filing report for later review._

_Complete._

_Returning to previous directive.]_

Philips frowned and became a little worried. The message wasn't encrypted nor did it require his permission to be received. Joker had been able to send it directly to their screen without a problem. Just as he had been able to deactivate their weapons and suits earlier. He already had full access to their equipment.

"The first thing we need to do is figure out how far that storm blew us from the battlezone," Royal Flush began. "Keep your weapons ready. Fire _only _if spotted by enemy personnel. Club, I want you to scout ahead west. Jack, take the east. Pair, I want you here to relay messages between them. Alarm us if any one of them go silent longer than ten minutes."

Philips' full codename was Pair of Threes. No one ever bothered calling him by his number. No one dared to. It sounded too close to the Researchers and their ranks.

Club and Jack went off where instructed. Philips reactivated his communications. Royal Flush remained within the vicinity, patrolling around their temporary camp with his shotgun armed and ready. And Joker… remained perched and as still as a statue.

Forty minutes later and several messages exchanged, Jack reported in, "_Pair, I found something."_

"What'd you find?" Philips inquired. Royal Flush stopped pacing to listen in.

"_Animal life form. I think. Black fur and… some kind of chitin exoskeleton. Sending camera feedback."_

Philips blinked and mentally commanded the permissions on his HUD. What Jack was seeing streamed in a window at the corner of Philips' screen. He scowled and squinted, the video expanding to meet his silent request.

The thing roaming through the trees was… a wolf. Of sorts. Its fur was as black as charcoal with white ivory plating protruding around its body like natural armor. It stopped walking and craned its head towards Jack. Its eyes were red.

It stood on its hind legs and stalk towards him like some kind of werewolf.

A notice appeared on another part of his screen. Jack had just activated his cloaking device and sound suppressors. To the naked eye, he became a humanoid shadow, transparent to all. His steps would not make a sound even as he crunched leaves and snapped twigs. He was a living void. But the beast continued to follow him… even as he moved around it.

"_My suit seems to be malfunctioning," _Jack took a cautious step back and drew his NERGAL combat knife. "_Probably from the crash. I'm retreating. Permission to open fire if it gets too dangerous."_

"Sir," Philips turned to look at Royal Flush. "Jack has come across a wild beast. We don't know what it is. He's requesting permission to use his firearm."

"Negative," Royal Flush shot it down. "Shoot only if engaged against Acolytes. Your training and equipment can protect you against wildlife. His knife is more than enough."

Philips nodded and was about to relay the message. However…

That black wolf was fast. Faster than any creature Philips came across in survival training. It blurred as it rushed for Jack, who had been caught completely by surprise just as much as Philips. It knocked him over. The camera flickered in every direction as the beast had Jack in his maw and shaking him around. Jack's shouting was a mix of shock and outrage. So far it hadn't pierced through his armor.

"Sir, it's overwhelming him!" Philips reported. "This creature isn't normal! It might be something the Acolytes created. It's moving just as fast as they would."

He saw Jack stab into the creature's side numerous time with this knife. The black wolf howled and threw him against a tree. It clawed at him, making the camera shake harder. But Jack was still on his feet and fending for himself. He swiped at it and it backpedaled. Jack let out a howl of his own to challenge the beast.

"_Come at me you ugly fuck!" _he shouted while lowering his stance and placing the dagger between them. "_You're nothing! I'll cut you and your ugly pups! COME ON!"_

The bushes around him rustled. Three more black wolves combed through. The first wolf snarled at them but didn't fight them. They surrounded Jack, who's head flicked at each of them to make sure they were always in his sight.

"Sir!" Philips stood and faced his officer. "There's multiple of them now! We need to do something!"

"_Back! Back off all of you!" _Jack stepped back until he hit a tree. He drew his handgun and pointed it at his left flank while keeping the dagger up for his right. The wolves slowly stalked forward.

"...Fuck," Royal Flush swore. "Permission granted. Inform Club. We're moving to retrieve Jack. His shots will alert his location to every Acolyte here."

Philips was already relaying orders to Club even as their officer spoke. They were moving before he could finish. Philips picked up his assault rifle and headed for Jack's direction.

"Where do you think you're going, Pair?" Royal Flush barked at him.

Philips stopped in his tracks to turn. He didn't have an answer right away, too stunned at the officer's inquiry to respond right away. "I… Going to the aid of my comrade, sir!"

"Jack is five mikes out with Aura jumps," Royal Flush told him. "We regroup with Club and move as a unit. Besides… the specialist is already enroute."

Philips' head snapped around. He searched around camp before checking for any signals within his HUD. Joker had vanished from all traces.

0-0-0

These things hit like a goddamn truck! It wasn't even an exaggeration. Every time they went at him was the air knocked out of his lungs. The kinetic suppressors did their magic but they were built for bullets. His suit wasn't built for explosives or personal skirmishes against the top Acolyte dogs. Or for razor claws with the strength of a jackhammer. It had the bare minimum for defense.

The readings showed his suit was working fine. He had gone into full stealth. He was practically a ghost! But still they were able to follow his every movement. They weren't confused in the slightest about where he was or where he was going.

Bullets also bounced off of their fur. That made no sense to him. How was he able to draw blood with his tactical knife when a .45 couldn't? Questions came later. If his knife was the only thing that worked then so be it.

The problem was trying to get close to one of these fuckers. They moved as a pack. They knew he could cut them. If he lunged at one then the rest would close up the gap. His back to the tree was his only shield. If they were trying to tire him out then they would be here for hours. He wasn't some regular soldier. He was a Tactical Hunter. His augmentations made sure he could keep up against the monsters that were Acolytes.

"...Oh come on," he groaned out.

A bigger, badder, stinkier wolf came out of the woodworks. This one was twice the size of the others, the clear alpha of the pack. It walked on its hind legs, had thicker bone armor, sharper spikes, and sharper fangs. It backhanded one of the betas for being in its way and the rest backed off.

Jack dove as a primal instinct took over him. The thing was there for a second and then it was gone. He heard the wind whistle and then… the tree he leaned against was gone. Shattered into a thousand splinters.

The warning on his HUD told him something was damaging his right shin. The beast had grabbed him with its front paw and lifted him off of the ground. The world blurred as he was brought around and slammed into the ground. Kinetic suppressors or not, this one knocked the living shit out of him.

It dragged him across the dirt before flinging him aside. His whole world shook as he crashed _through _a tree. Warnings popped up on his HUD. His suit was damaged. _He _was damaged.

Stealth-mode was shut down. Lot of good that did, anyways.

He groaned and tried to get up. But the thing leapt from where it had flung him all the way to where he was now. Ten meters, give or take. Oh, it had landed right on top of him. One of its paws kept him pinned to the ground.

He didn't know why, but he was reminded of his father when the damn thing roared in his face. Spittle stuck on his visor, just like his father at the time. He was ten again, on the floor after his drunken fuck of an old man finished beating him. The old man had a foot planted on his chest and said some garbage about being a man. But that was when Jack reached for one of the broken bottles and jammed it into his leg.

He didn't have something like that right now. He wasn't sure where or when the NERGAL got lost. He could hardly move a limb. He couldn't even shut off the annoying warning signs flashing on screen.

It wasn't going to be an Acolyte to finish him. It was some wild mutt. He wasn't sure if that was better or worse.

The thing's ears twitched. A yelp of surprise came from one of the betas. The alpha turned its head around… and got a lightning bolt-shaped sword lodged deep into its left eye. It howled in agony and whipped his head around. It clawed at the weapon stabbed inside its head but the thing was stuck in there.

Specialist Joker hacked a twin blade into the neck of another black wolf, flipped over the lunging charge of another, and brought the sword around to kill a third. He pulled on a black cable attached to his wrist— it was linked to the first sword and it had ripped itself out of the beast's skull. The cable retracted and he used the velocity to kill the second wolf that was about to turn around to attack again.

The alpha roared like a lion and went for Joker. The special operative kicked off the ground, planted a hand on the thing's shoulder, and flipped around in the air. While he spun, he grabbed the cables and slashed his swords across the thing's back rapidly. It howled, arched in pain, and fumbled to the ground. When Joker landed, he didn't hesitate. Dirt kicked up as he Aura-jumped— propelling himself forward like a rocket.

In a series of moves Jack had only seen in shitty martial arts movies, Joker had hacked into the beast as he zipped by it. Without bothering to check whether the creature was dead or not did he retract his weapons. The cables retracted while his blades folded in onto his bracers.

The beast whined defiantly and tried to stand. But it fell back to the ground.

...And began to evaporate into black mist.

"What the fuck…?" Jack swore and tried to get up. But a message prompted; Joker had deactivated his suit once more. He couldn't move.

Black mist was rising around him. He couldn't turn his head to see but he knew they were originating from the other wolves Joker had killed.

Joker kneeled down and leaned over Jack.

_[Custom message: Don't move._

_Shade-218 reporting internal injuries of pilot._

_Running diagnosis._

_Complete._

_Custom message: Moving not recommended._

_Custom message: Remain calm._

_Custom message: Irregular wildlife detected nearby.]_

"H-How close?" he asked. He knew it was pointless. With his suit deactivated, he couldn't get a word in or out.

Yet, Joker's head dipped slightly.

_[Detecting potential hostiles two kilometers due…_

_Error: Global compass malfunctioning._

_Redrafting message._

_Detecting potential hostiles two kilometers at 3 o' clock._

_Reinforcements enroute… ETA fifteen minutes.]_

With the messages sent, Joker stood up and flicked his wrist. One of his blades unfolded and snapped into his grip. He had his back to Jack as he stood as stawartly as a statue. His head would turn on occasion and gaze lifelessly into the trees. All Jack could do was lay back… as much as his petrified suit could allow.

His eyes traced the rising particles of black dust while they waited for the others to arrive.

0-0-0

"Guys…" a very shaken, very unsure Club spoke to all of them once they stopped to rest. The squad had recovered Jack and retreated deeper into the forest. Joker was in the rearguard while Royal Flush led them forward. Eventually, they found a riverstream to rest.

Philips was busy filling up the emergency canteens and popping a purifier capsule in each of them. He gave each one a good shake before setting them aside to process. Jack sat on a fallen tree with Club nearby. Royal Flush took a knee upstream with his head turning systematically to scan the trees, his shotgun still ready. And Joker stood away from the group, back to them all and just… standing there.

It was only due to quick thinking did Philips grab any salvageable equipment from the crash. There were a few medical supplies, some emergency rations, and a survival kit. They hadn't been equipped for a long-term mission as they were supposed to sneak behind enemy lines during the battle and kill Commander Rolan. But every transportation had the bare minimum essentials on the chance a deviation happened.

"What is it?" Philips asked before getting to the next canteen. He paused in his process to look over his shoulder. His helm swiveled the camera around so he could fully see Club where his peripheral couldn't.

"I found something when I was out," Club answered. "But then Jack got ambushed and I put it on hold. I'm sending you the recording. Commander, sir, you're going to want to see this too."

"Sending link for confirmation," Royal Flush said without looking away. "Accepted. I am now hooked up with your comms."

Every Tactical Hunter could send audio communications to another. But messages had to be encrypted and were locked out by members of another class. It was so if any one of them could be compromised would all other squads keep their secrets.

Club tapped a finger on the side of his helmet and scrolled through a menu only he could see. Another tap had the message sent to all of them.

A window appeared in the corner of Philips' screen and he mentally commanded it to expand. It did and he saw what Club had seen less than an hour ago. The man had reached the edge of the forest and stared off into an open plain. There weren't any roads as far as he could see. His head looked around, camera zoomed in on the horizon before retracting, and then slowly drifted up towards the sky. There wasn't a cloud in the sky as if the storm had disappeared.

The camera stopped moving. Club had taken a step back in shock. He swore and shook his head. The image had moved away as he looked around his surroundings in search of something. His head snapped back up to make sure what he was seeing was true.

Philips felt the same way. The moon… was shattered. It was forever in a crescent as giant chunks of itself floated near the colossal hole in its side.

"What the fuck…?" Jack said in a low and disbelieving voice. "Is this for real? This can't be real. Who did… _How _did…? What the bloody fuck?!"

What had happened during the time they were downed? Philips tried to remember the past few hours. They were enroute to their destination when the storm appeared. It came before the pilot could react. It threw them off their path, tore their carrier apart as if it were a paper airplane, and tossed his squadmates out into the open. He remembered crashing but never losing consciousness.

Even in all that commotion, he was pretty damn sure he'd have noticed someone blowing up the moon.

"Stay calm," Royal Flush turned to address them directly.

"Stay calm?!" Jack looked ready to stand but threw his arm around his waist as he flinched. "They blew up the fucking moon! If we did that… I hope it was to show those Acolytes what we can do. But if it was the Acolytes who did it…"

"This does not change anything about our position," Royal Flush said, never losing the edge in his voice. "We worry about ourselves first. We move until we are able to make contact with HQ. Put all other thoughts aside, soldier."

"...Yes, sir," Jack said with a heavy voice. He seemed more tired as he slouched where he sat.

The party fell quiet. The only sound being made was the stream, a few bird chirps, and Philips filling the canteens.

_[Detected potential hostiles closing in._

_Potential hostiles alerted to our presence._

_Custom message: Suggest to roll out.]_

"How the hell…?" Royal Flush said in a low voice. They had been quiet to the outside world this entire time. An observer would have only seen them making hand gestures here and there. They only used 6G communications within their sealed suits. "Pair, finish up quickly and take point. Club, assist Jack. Joker, keep track of those things and watch our six. We move in one mike."

Everyone moved in a procedural, practiced manner. Club and Royal Flush took a pack while Philips finished with the canteens. He handed them to each member, though Joker refused his. He didn't even acknowledge Philips as he continued to stare out into the trees. Jack threw an arm over Club's shoulder once Royal Flush ordered them to move.

As they moved, they each received messages from Joker. The beasts were following them. And they continued to follow them for several hours. Royal Flush would not allow them to rest until they broke out of the forest. Even then, when they came into the open field Club spotted, Joker reported the beasts were still after them.

They eventually found a dirt road but had no idea where it led to. Lack of satellite communications meant none of them had a map. That… and even Royal Flush admitted the area was unfamiliar to him.

Exactly how far had that storm thrown them? It couldn't have been more than a couple of miles. Why couldn't they see Kansas City in sight?

"None of this makes sense…" Royal Flush growled as he looked at their surroundings. "That forest. Those mountains. Am I mistaken…? It's like we're in a completely different state. What the hell did the Acolytes do to us…?"

_[Detected hostiles closing in.]_

"Still?!" Jack threw up a hand. They were all tired but he was at the edge of exhaustion. "Don't those damn things ever give up?"

Joker's head snapped to the right. Philips reached for his sidearm and was ready to draw. But there was nothing there.

_[Further hostiles alerted our presence._

_Hostiles deviating from their predicted flight pattern._

_Hostiles closing in.]_

Flight pattern? Philips' camera zoomed in on the sky. He could make out black figures flying towards them. They were falcons the size of _dogs _with the same bone armor as the black wolves.

"There's more now?" Club asked.

"Something is giving away our position," Philips said. "Sir, we should cut communications until the situation is clear. They might be picking up on our signals."

"...Very well," Royal Flush nodded. "Joker, see if you can cover our tracks from our pursuers. We're pressing on. Catch up to us once you've dealt with them. The rest of you, we're going full analog. Turn off all functions within your suits."

"Yes, sir," the three Shade units said and obeyed. Philips mentally commanded his suit to switch over to its energy saving mode… after several annoying windows, passwords, and administration confirmations to go through.

His suit suddenly became heavy as the motion support kicked off. He would have to carry a fifty pound suit of light armor the rest of the way. His screen also went off before his visor turned into an actual visor. He, and the others, would look at the open world through a window but still could not see each other's faces. The suit was also unsealed, letting in fresh air rather than from their purifiers. They could also speak to each other aloud.

There came the familiar thoom of an Aura-jump behind him. When next he looked, Joker was already gone. Philips couldn't even see what direction he headed off towards. They were out in the open with land as far as the eye could see and Joker was nowhere in sight.

"Let's get going," Royal Flush commanded, his voice muffled behind his helm. He, without the support of his suit's primary functions, began to lift and tug his heavy armor forward. Yet… he walked as normally as he would have with the features on.

0-0-0

"I have to be freaking out…" Club said as he grabbed both sides of his helmet. His head shook back and forth. "I'm going crazy. This can't be right. There's just no way. This… this is just wrong!"

Night had fallen when they had no choice but to rest. It wasn't the darkness that hindered their journey— any Tactical Hunter was a true fear of Acolytes in the night. No, it was the exhaustion of constantly running. Their augmentations could have had them keep going for another half day but Jack's injuries were pushing it.

They found the ruins of a village. There weren't any more than six houses all built around each other with a well at the center. The buildings themselves were perfectly intact. Food was stocked and they pillaged only the canned goods.

It was the people who once lived here that churned Philips' stomach. When they entered the first house and called out their arrival, it was eerily quiet. Joker, without being able to deliver messages, signaled that there were two personnel on the second floor. Philips' and Club searched and found a middle aged couple in bed together. Dead.

All the houses were like this. Whole families dead in their beds. The entire village died in their sleep.

But, no, that wasn't what was currently bothering Club so much. Though there was no denying it helped to drive him further into hysteria. When night fell, he suggested to read the stars to map their current location.

"The constellations!" he shouted at them, pointing up at the sky. "T-They're all wrong! They're all different! I don't recognize _any _of these patterns!"

Philips only knew about a couple of constellations. Try as he might, he couldn't find any of the pattern of stars he was familiar with. He didn't know enough about this to confirm or deny Club's words.

"Quiet!" Royal Flush demanded. His eyes were on Joker, who had given a hand signal for hostiles inbound. Even on the brink of a frenzy did they all listen and obey their commanding officer. Or maybe it was _because _they were on the brink. Philips found himself looking at Royal Flush like a lifeline to this pandemonium.

Joker raised his fists as he kept his head bowed. His fingers flashed with digits. Ten, ten, and seven. There were a total of twenty seven beasts nearby. Then… he pointed to the well.

"...And the water's poisoned," Jack commented dryly from where he sat. They left him on the rocking chair on the perch of the building they crowded outside. Philips, and most of the others, didn't want to sleep in the house of dead folks. They hadn't gotten around to burying them yet.

"Jesus fucking Christ…" Royal Flush swore under his breath. He took a deep breath before instructing them, "We have no choice but to bunk here for the night. Club, get your head out of your ass and pick the most fortifiable structure here. Pair, Joker, you're with me. We're going to clear out that nest before they get to us first. Understand?"

"Sir!" Philips said readily. Joker didn't respond other than to turn his head towards Royal Flush. Club responded a second after Philips.

"Joker, see about finding some rope to secure our descent," Royal Flush ordered.

Joker didn't do that. He drew out his strangely shaped sword and tapped it on the edge of the well. The blade rang in a high-pitch before fading off. His head trailed something along the ground before rising up towards a house across from them. He pointed towards it with the tip of the blade.

"Alright," Royal Flush seemed to understand. "Lead the way. Pair, keep your weapons ready."

He followed the two of them into the house. It was a cozy little thing, all things considered. Most of the structure was made of wood with a few carpets thrown about, some handmade furniture, and an impressive wine cellar. Joker led them past the wine cellar, into the basement… and towards a cabinet that hid a sealed bunker door.

Royal Flush ripped the lock and chains from the door with Aura applied strength. He signaled for them to follow him as he kept his shotgun raised. They all descended down the stone stairs with Philips second and Joker watching their rear. The specialist had both blades out while Philips had his sidearm and NERGAL tucked together and ready.

In pitch darkness did their augmentations as Tactical Hunters kick in. To describe such a sensation would be the same as describing a color that none else could see. Not only did they have the normal vision they were born with, but they had been given the ability to see shadows as though they were light. Everything in this abyssal bunker was exposed for their eyes to see.

There was nothing at first as they entered an empty stone room. There was a part of the wall that had been broken into— there was a sledgehammer discarded to the side. They stepped through and found themselves in a cold, damp area. The smell of wet stone caught Philips' attention before his feet splashed on some water.

They had entered the well itself. A long man made tunnel stretched left and right, supported and held up by wooden beams. In the distance to their right could they see the dim light of the moon, which would be where the villagers would draw their water from. But towards the left…

Both Royal Flush and Philips raised their weapons. There came the sound of groaning and whining. The sounds one would hear from a zombie flick. The glowing red eyes came next.

In front of them was a hoard of… black, humanoid monstrosities wearing human skeletons as armor. Their arms were elongated with skeletal claws as long as his knife. Their backs were crooked and heads bowed or tilted as if they couldn't bear the weight of their own bodies.

"Hmph," Royal Flush sneered. His shotgun kicked as he fired a round at the hoard. The buckshot, capable of peeling off layers of an Acolyte's Aura defense, did nothing against any of these creatures. They saw the pellets spray onto them… but they didn't so much as flinch.

And then, like a choir singing in unison, they screamed.

It was the sound of nails on a chalkboard to Philips. He should have been able to tolerate it. Maybe stun him temporarily. But his knee hit the ground. Even Royal Flush was affected as the man stumbled where he stood and placed a hand on the nearest wall.

Philips was suddenly… drained. All of his strength was gone. His weapons felt heavy. His armor felt heavy. _He _felt heavy. He wanted nothing more to do than lie down and rest.

Forever.

"They…" he called out and struggled to rise back to his feet. "They're the ones who killed the people here. That screaming…"

"I felt it too," confirmed Royal Flush as he stood upright. He tucked the shotgun onto a strap over his shoulder. "Pair, you are authorized to reactivate your suit and use anti-Acolyte weaponry. Shut them out. Standard ammunition has no effect on these things."

"Yes, sir—!" Philips began to turn back on the functions. All he needed to do was tap the pad on the side of his helmet in a certain sequence.

But the hoard screamed again. Louder. His hand was halfway to his head before his entire body felt like gelatin. His strength was sapped out of him. He fell onto his hands and knees. He dropped his weapons and lost them to the ankle-deep water running through. He knew they were within his reach but… he couldn't bother to pick them up.

He knew the monsters were coming towards them. Slowly, like a hoard of zombies. He heard… whispering coming from them. Coming from them and… inside his head. They were talking to him, telling him to be at ease. There was nothing to worry about. There was no reason for him to care. He could rest forever.

Joker stepped in front of him and crossed his blades over like a shield. The specialist had been able to remain on his feet, completely unaffected by their screaming. He was the only one in their group who had his suit fully functioning and could block out any outside noise if he so chose.

The creatures screamed again. Philips knew they did by the way their jaws extended and chests deflated. But… not a sound reached him.

He _saw _the sound being held back by Joker. The air was distorted as he kept his blades locked and body bracing against something. A wall of sound was in front of him. He flexed, took a step forward, and swung his arms out. The wall was pushed back; the creatures swayed and stumbled back as though a great gust had hit them.

Joker attacked, leaping into the hoard with reckless abandon via Aura-jump. His blades whistled with each swing, decapitating and carving the monsters in a flurry of inhuman blows.

"Get up, Pair!" he felt the strong grip of Royal Flush on his arm as the man pulled him back to his feet. Philips had to use him as an anchor to remain standing. The officer's voice was being channeled through a speaker on his helm; he had reactivated his suit. "Turn your suit back on!"

He found himself struggling to find a reason to do that. But… it was his training that did it for him. Orders were absolute. He had no opinion. He was but a tool for the emperor. And he would carry them out to the very end.

His suit powered back on and sealed itself shut. The HUD flashed with icons and windows, running protocols and diagnostics. Functions turned back on. He commanded it to seal himself shut and mute outside noise.

He made it just in time for another set of monsters to come from the way they came from. How had they missed these things? They were sure to have checked their corners. He would need to figure this out another time.

There was no sound but he was sure Royal Flush was shouting some kind of warcry as the man charged forward like a human rhinoceros. He plowed through the first monster and knocked aside those close behind it. He then started swinging with Aura-enhanced strength and amplifications of his Juggernaut suit.

Philips tucked away his sidearm and tapped the pad on his right thigh. The armor opened a slot there and he pulled out his Winter Knight, a special .55 magnum designed for the sole purpose of overpowering even the best Acolyte defenses. This one was packed with anti-Acolyte bullets.

He followed after Royal Flush and fired round after round into the monsters. Heads exploded and chests ruptured. Every shot had the power to knock the beasts to the ground. He made sure to watch Royal Flush's back while the officer literally tore the monsters apart.

Unlike the wolves, falcons, or the house-sized snake they ran into on the way here, these things were slow. Stupidly slow. Without the power of their voice, they were weak.

So weak Philips decides saving ammo was the better bet as he took his time looking for his NERGAL dagger. Any beast that managed to get close to him was stabbed in the chest or throat.

And just like before, these black beasts faded away into black dust once they were killed.

What exactly were they?

0-0-0

"We powering on again?" Jack asked once they returned. He had moved to the third house's living room. A fire was going in the chimney while Club was watching the perimeter from the window.

"Stay off for now," Royal Flush told him through his speaker system. "We still don't know what alerts these things. We found a den of… monsters down below. They used some kind of vocalized attack to mess with motor functions. They were useless once we shut them out."

"...Monsters?" Jack asked with concern. "You mean not like the beasts from before?"

"They were human shape and had human bones over their skin," Royal Flush answered grimly. "We believe they're the ones responsible for the village. We cleared them out but stay alert. Notify anyone immediately if you feel a sudden wave of fatigue, doubt, or complete lack of care."

"If we're not powering on, then permission to remove my helmet, sir?" Jack sighed.

Royal Flush was quiet briefly. "Pair, how much power do you have left?"

"Six hours on standby, sir," he answered while glancing to the corner of his screen.

"Then you take the first watch," Royal Flush ordered. "We will rotate every three hours. Turn off your suit once your shift is over to preserve energy on the chance of an attack. I will be after you followed by Club and Jack."

"Me?" Jack gawked.

"Your ribs are bruised," Royal Flush turned his head. They could all feel the glower behind his black visor. "Your eyes and ears work fine."

"Sir?" Club turned away from the window to ask. "What about Joker?"

The specialist stood with his back against the wall in one corner of the room. He wasn't leaning against it. He was only standing still with his arms at his side. There was no indication he was paying attention to their conversation.

"Joker is _always _watching," Royal Flush answered. "The only reason why I'm putting a schedule is to keep you sharp. Keep relying on him and you'll not survive when he's not here."

"Regarding my request… sir?" Jack tapped on his helmet with his forefinger.

"Permission granted," Royal Flush grunted. "Joker, keep watch for us. All of you gather around. Helmets off."

"...Sir?" Philips questioned but wasn't sure if it was his place to do so.

"That's an order," was his reply as the man approached the coffee table and placed both hands on his helmet. The back of the dome began to fold upwards while gaps appeared to let the head loose. He lifted the helmet off and tucked if under his arm while pulling back the lightweight cap.

Royal Flush was a man in his late thirties with a prominent scowl and salt and pepper hair.

Philips and Club approached the table with Jack remaining in his seat. Jack was revealed to be a mid-twenties caucasian man with peach skin and brown hair. Club was of Asian descent, though Philips didn't want to question whether the man was Korean or Chinese…

"Shit, I thought you were black," Jack snorted with his brows rising.

"Only in the waist-down," Club joked back. "It's all Filipino up top."

Ah, Philips was way off on his mark. He chose to not comment while the two laughed. When it was his turn to remove his helmet, both Shade units looked at him in confusion.

"Pair…" Club licked his lips. "How old are you, my man?"

Philips was always mistaken for a teenage brat. He still had a bit of baby fat that never went away and a face riddled with freckles. He had hardly aged a day for as long as he could remember, that being less than a decade ago before becoming a Tactical Hunter.

"Don't know," he answered honestly and plainly. This wasn't the first time his age was questioned. "There's a lot of my history I'm missing. We reckon my age to be around twenty-four."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Jack asked through a narrowed gaze. He wasn't doubting Philips directly but was confused about his explanation.

"The emperor found me during the collapse of Red Tide. I am told I was one of them. The emperor offered me a chance to serve him. And here I am."

"That would be… six? Seven years ago?" Club bowed his head and thought. "You were a part of Red Tide? I feel like I should be worried but… you've watched our backs so far. And if the emperor picked you out of all of those bastards…?"

Philips chose to say nothing else about the matter. He gave them the bare minimum. And he had proven himself as a Tactical Hunter. They could not question his loyalty or his resolve to the cause without questioning Emperor Xed himself. It wouldn't be needed as Club had admitted to trust him.

"Men," Royal Flush spoke up. He eyed each of them before speaking further, "Look at each other. Remember the faces you see. We are all human. Out there is a world full of monsters. Both the Acolytes and now these black beasts. We are stranded on unknown territory with no means of contacting any support. We must work together if we are to survive."

"That's the thing I don't get…" Club muttered quietly, He had his hands wrapped over his knees, squeezing tightly around the plating. "There's no signal at all. I can't even pick up basic radio. All I keep getting is this weird frequency I can't focus on. It's like all modern civilization doesn't exist."

"What signal?" Philips asked.

"Static, mostly," Club shrugged. "It's like there are radio waves but they're not _radio _waves. Like, we use radio-A and whatever's in the air is radio-1. Same, but different."

"Yeah, that doesn't make any sense," Jack quipped.

"I'm trying to explain it the best way I can!" Club said with his frustrations slipping.

Joker moved quickly to the window. The action put everyone on edge with hands flying to their weapons. Nobody moved as the specialist stared out the window. After a moment, Philips lifted his helmet up but a quick gesture from Joker made him stop. The specialist continued to look out the window, keeping the gesture raised towards Philips. Soon, he lowered his hand and moved away from the window. He made the gesture for 'clear'.

Nobody said anything. While the Shade units looked at Joker and wondered what he saw, Royal Flush was quiet in his thoughts. He rubbed a hand under his chin a few times while his brows furrowed. His eyes studied Club, then shifted over to Jack, and then stared down at the table. He said nothing as he thought to himself.

"I will begin the first watch," Philips announced. He put his helmet back on and Joker didn't stop him this time.

"I will relieve you in three hours," Royal Flush said automatically.

Philips headed out of the living room and out of the house. His steps groaned against the wood patio before descending onto the patch road. He was alone as he began to patrol around the village square, never straying too far away from the house.

The events of the past thirteen hours plagued his mind throughout the night.


	3. Chapter 3

No one batted an eye when another Faunus stepped onto Menagerie's docks. No one stopped or questioned his reasons for being here. The security wasn't lax but it was stretched thin. Thinner than usual, he noted. But it's not like it mattered to him. It would make his job that much easier.

He needed to find the woman he thought dead. Why she chose to flee to Menagerie was beyond him. To hide from the goddess? Her reach stretched all across Remnant, including the isolated and ignored continent. It was foolish for a human to pick a Faunus-dominant country as her hiding spot.

There were always a handful of humans in the country; small enough to stick out like sore thumbs. Finding them would be easy. But come to his surprise that there were _more _humans in Menagerie than he expected. A whole horde of them, in fact. And their arrival had caused quite the stir. The locals talked and talked and talked about them wherever he went.

It was said they possessed powers too close to the Maidens. Curious. He had thought all the Maidens were accounted for. Had one slipped away from his goddess' knowledge and make Menagerie her home? He would have to investigate further.

But he also heard… these heathens could control the Grimm. Blasphemous. Only his goddess wielded such power! This… this could not be excused, even if— no, especially if it was a rouse.

He watched from the crowds as Menagerie guardsmen cleared the roads and escorted these outsiders through. He got a good look at the ten humans who squatted outside the city walls. His curiosity spiked as most of them were dressed in black coats. The short one in the front wore a pristine white coat. But what drove him to claw at his neck was the fact they all hid their faces behind Grimm masks.

He cackled out loud. No one paid him any mind as their attention was locked on the humans. Curious. Curious indeed.

He watched them. One woman and two girls. Two men and the rest either boys or between that maturing age. The two boys in the back were talking among themselves, one casual and the other reluctant in his steps. One of the men saw a cat Faunus at the edge of the sidewalk and tried to drift out of formation to talk to her; the other man grabbed his belt and pulled him back with subtlety. The rest were keeping a vigilant watch of their surroundings.

He met the eyes of the boy in the white coat. His eyes were red and blue… and glowing. Not like a Maiden's light, no. A trick of the light, perhaps? The two observed each other, judging another. The contact was lost as the boy— as the monster in human skin kept walking.

He knew those eyes very well.

They weren't military despite their uniforms. But they were more disciplined than bandits. Mercenaries? He couldn't decipher where they came from. Not with those masks.

Alas, his quarry was not among them. He slipped out of sight. Finding the woman was his top priority. He will not fail his goddess a second time.

0-0-0

Ghira took his seat at the high chair. At both his sides were the other council members. The room they were using wasn't the same as they had been using for their discussions. This was the council chamber, often used for petitions and trials. It was spacious enough to fit up to a thousand people on the lower floors and a few hundred on the second floor balcony. It was one of the largest buildings in the city and yet was nowhere near enough to accomodate everyone who wanted to attend civil meetings.

At the moment, the chamber was vacant of civilian witnesses. Normally such private discussions would be hosted in the room down the hallway. However, such a room could not provide for the amount of people in today's discussion.

The twin doors opened and guards stepped in and moved aside.

Commander Rolan stood at the doorway. His glowing red and blue eyes pierced through his Grimm mask. Nine other sets glared beautifully behind him. He stepped forward and his entourage followed with steady, disciplined steps. Each step matched his.

At a gesture of his hand, his company split into two, lining up to the first rows of seats beside him. He took a stand at the podium in the middle. Only then did he remove his mask and place it on its surface, on the edge and away but clear enough for all to see. Once done, the other Researcher Symphonies followed his example.

Ghira's eyes drifted across both rows. He had met each and every one of them at least once during his conversations with Chase. Most of them were so young— younger than they should be with the hardened eyes of a veteran huntsman. They had come in two rows of five in ranking order and split to fill the two first rows. The highest members were closest to Chase.

"Chieftain Belladonna," Chase stood straight with his hands behind his back. "Thank you for permitting us within your city to speak with you. As for the other persons of interest," his eyes met those sitting behind the desk across from him. "I am Chase Lance Rolan, Second Symphony and Commander of the Researcher Symphonies. Let me introduce to you the officers of our order."

Left and right, back and forth, Chase introduced each of his subordinates by descending rank. At each name did the officer salute, placing one hand at their waist and bringing a fist to their chest.

Alec Zephyr, the Twelfth Symphony and Guide of the Twelfth Orchestra.

Rose li Red, the Eleventh Symphony and Hand of the Eleventh Orchestra.

Marla Amber, the Tenth Symphony and Director of the Tenth Orchestra.

Isaac Fayte, the Ninth Symphony and Conductor of the Ninth Orchestra.

Monk Anthony, the Eighth Symphony and Manager of the Eighth Orchestra.

Travis Rose, the Seventh Symphony and Maestro of the Seventh Orchestra.

Albert Gener, the Sixth Symphony and Captain of the Sixth Orchestra.

Jeremy vi Ultimo, the Fifth Symphony and Master of the Fifth Orchestra.

Alice Nyte, the Third Symphony and Vice Commander of the Researcher Symphonies.

"Greetings," Ghira dipped his head once Chase finished. "Allow me to introduce to you the members of the council. Akela Greymane, Chief of Security; Winnifred Olifant, Chief Advisor; and Roygaris Kongfree."

In the corner of his eye, he saw the Third Symphony, Alice, blink a number of times. Her eyes flashed to each member of the council before widening with realization. Ghira pretended to ignore her.

"And what sort of position does Mr Kongfree have within the council?" Chase asked while meeting Roygaris' eyes.

"An honorary one, mostly," Roygaris was the one to answer. "I have no official position within the council but my opinion is invaluable. You could say I represent the common folk."

Chase nodded his head once in acceptance.

"Please be seated," Ghira waved a hand while attendants approached. "Would you or your men care for refreshments, Commander Rolan?"

"Water," Chase answered readily. Ghira noticed some of the officers frown before disciplining themselves. The Ninth Symphony, Isaac, openly sighed. "It would be unfair for any of us to indulge when such a luxury is unavailable for those outside."

He made a gesture, a simple command for his officers to be at ease. They all took their seats while the attendants served them chilled water in glass. As he couldn't sit, Chase instead chose to lean one elbow against the podium and cross one foot behind his ankle. He was also the only one who voiced his gratitude to the attendant when he was served.

Ghira asked for wine. Gods knew he was going to need it right now. Akela and Winnifred received water and Roygaris requested the wine.

"Since we're all getting comfortable," Chase began after taking a sip of his drink. He paused to glance across the council members. "I'd like to skip all other formalities and get straight to the matter. The Researcher Symphonies is willing to offer its services to Menagerie and its people in exchange for articles of importance. We have a list of items of prior importance ready to be reviewed."

He snapped a finger and pointed towards Alice. From inside her coat did she produce a set of folded sheets of parchment. An attendant approached, received it from her, and brought it to Ghira. He glanced at it briefly. He expected the stocks of food, blankets, and rolls of fabrics. He even expected the scrap metal and salary to purchase anything else they will need in the future. What he didn't expect was the sum of academic tomes such as mathematics, geography, history, and science.

...Or the request for comic books, movies, and… pornography on page three. He couldn't stop his brows from rising. He saw the Eighth Symphony, Monk, shift in his seat. As if having eyes in the back of his head, so too did Chase. He turned to give the Eighth Symphony a hard glare.

"And what sort of services can your company provide?" Roygaris was the first to ask. Greed was in his voice as he leaned forward.

"Before that," Akela spoke before Chase could reply. He shot Roygaris a warning glare before returning to the commander. "Where exactly do you stand, Commander Rolan? Are you a threat to Menagerie?"

"Yes," Chase answered without any hesitation while continuing to glare at Monk. He returned to address Akela. "Of course we are a threat. The purpose of today's discussion is to figure out whether we will need to carry out that threat. I would prefer we settle things peacefully but we are not naive enough to completely drop our guard. The real question is: does Menagerie intend on making us its enemy or its ally?"

Winnifred snorted. Chase's brows furrowed but he never looked away from Akela.

The Chief of Security responded firmly, "I share the same thoughts, Commander Rolan. I have no intention in creating a war but have a duty to take up arms to protect those I swore under. If the Researcher Symphonies truly intend for peace then you and I will have no problem. With that said, I have no reason to trust you or your company. We will continue to watch you until proven otherwise."

"Fair enough," Chase said without any tone or gesture. He shifted his stance so to better face Roygaris. "To answer your question, the Researcher Symphonies is a company of scholars first and soldiers second. We have always pursued the knowledge of our people. While I understand this knowledge might not be compatible with non-Acolyte personnel, we can still use it for the benefit of Menagerie.

"We can do more than just tame and cull the Grimm. We have Earth, Metal, and Alchemy Acolytes for crafting and construction. We have Water and Flora Acolytes for harvesting. The Sixth Orchestra are our engineers, the Tenth Orchestra our medics. Our powers are for more than just destruction and warfare. Though I will not hide the fact we are capable of doing terrible things to our enemies."

Roygaris hummed to himself while stroking his chin. He nodded in gratitude to Chase as he leaned back in his chair and thought to himself.

Once again, Winnifred made a noise of contempt.

"Do you have something you'd like to say, old man?" This time, Chase did not let it go. His voice was sharp, if not annoyed. He stood straight while grabbing the edges of the podium.

"If I must," Winnifred huffed. Ghira placed the documents down and cupped his hands together, watching the exchange intently. "I have seen your kind before. Ruffians. Yours is a band of hooligans who think they can get what they want through harassment. I had thought a band of barbarians had invaded us. But seeing you here today only tells me otherwise. You are nothing more than a bunch of children playing with forces you cannot comprehend."

"Says the person within fireball range," Chase quipped bluntly. One or two of his officers snickered as though it were a joke, unable to help themselves. None of the Menagerians laughed. It was as much of a threat as any other.

"Do you see what I mean?" Winnifred pointed at Chase while looking at his fellow councilmen. "This boy just threatened me! We cannot trust someone like this. How do we know they won't end us all once we give them what they want? We shouldn't even be conversing with them!"

"Says the old man who clearly forgot what happened a few days ago," Chase commented again. "Yes, in your eyes I'm a child. I'm only eighteen. Most of the officers are or at least close to my age. You can look down on us as much as you want. You can call us names and accuse us of whatever. What you can't ignore is what we can do. Now, the only reason why I haven't signaled for the other Researchers outside to raze Menagerie to the ground is thanks to Chief Greymane. Because of him I understand neither Menagerie nor the Researcher Symphonies want to fight each other. However, you are dangerously close to making me change my mind."

The entire room became on edge. Half of the Researchers stiffened while the other half took in a breath of reluctant acceptance.

"You only prove my point, boy," Winnifred gruffed then snorted. "I speak my mind and you throw a child's tantrum. My great grandson has better manners than you. I have no intention of speaking with you further and notion for a resolution to this interview."

"I would like to vote against it," Roygaris waved a hand at Winnifred.

"I as well," Akela spoke up. "There is still much we need to learn about this company."

"Yes, my thoughts exactly," Roygaris wagged a finger towards Akela this time. He adjusted his seating, ignoring Winnifred's next round of gruffing. "Where exactly did your company come from, Commander Rolan?"

"I shared this story with Chieftain Belladonna previously but can provide a brief summary," Chase responded with the edge in his voice gone. "We were operating outside of Kansas City when a storm struck. Twisters came down in every direction and chased each and every Orchestra relentlessly. We were swept away by the winds and scattered about. When next we realized, we were on the North-East section of your continent."

Winnifred opened his mouth to comment but Ghira raised a hand. The old Faunus huffed but obeyed the silent command.

"Right, yes, I've heard so much before," Roygaris waved his hand as if smoke appeared in his face. "I'm asking _where _you came from. What continent? Atlas? Vacuo?"

Ghira's brows shifted. That last one sounded more like a suggestion than an inquiry.

"North America," Chase answered with a straight face. "The American Empire, to be specific. It's not on any of your maps. Atlas and Vacuo aren't on any of ours either."

"I will ask again," the orangutan Faunus leaned forward and cupped his hands together. His face was knowing. "Are you not from Vacuo?"

"We are not," Chase's brows fell into a straight line. "Are you going to tell me why that sounds like an accusation?"

"No need for hostilities, commander," Roygaris waved for an attendant to come over. But this one made no gesture to refill his drink. "I am merely getting to the bottom of this. Bring the woman here."

"...What's going on?" Ghira asked through narrowed eyes. He watched as the attendant went into one of the side rooms. Roygaris didn't answer.

It took less than a minute for the door to swing open again. Ghira's brows rose as high as they could as he watched the attendant escort a woman into the chamber. He knew the Researcher officers stood up. He looked and saw how all their faces were full of disbelief and shock. Chase's face was completely blank.

She was a human woman in the prime of her age with dark wine hair, fair skin, and silver eyes. He had no idea who she was… but he recognized the shimmering silver coat she was dressed in. It was a Researcher's coat, albeit silver instead of black or Chase's white.

The woman stood to the side for everyone to see. Her eyes traced over the other Researchers, taking immediately note of the similar attire to her own, and then shied away from their glances. She looked up to Roygaris for assurance. He didn't give her any as he kept an eye on the Researchers' reaction.

"What is this?" Chase turned to glower at Roygaris.

"I assume she is one of yours?" Roygaris returned with a dry chuckle.

"No. She isn't."

"Really?" the Faunus didn't feign his disbelief. "Two weeks ago, she showed up on my docks. The voyage was a spice run all the way from Vacuo. It's not irregular to see humans in Menagerie but her attire struck me as odd. And then I find a hundred others with similar coats in our backyard. I had my men find this woman as soon as you appeared. She's been my guest since your arrival and she's told me how much she's been looking for you and your kind."

"And you didn't think to inform me because…?" Ghira leaned forward to make sure his own glare could meet Roygaris.

"Or me?" Akela leaned over as well.

"To catch them by surprise," Roygaris answered with a calm and steady voice. "So you could not inform them intentionally or otherwise. They wouldn't have had a chance to think of an excuse and we can catch them red handed. Will you still claim to not know this woman, Commander Rolan? Will you also claim to not come from Vacuo?"

Chase stared at the woman. She stared back, hope in her eyes. It made his narrow.

"I don't know this woman. However," he shut his eyes, took a deep breath, and opened them again. "The coat she wears is familiar to me. It belongs to the First Symphony. By all legal rights…"

He let out a huff of air and licked his lips. He raised a hand towards the woman. She stepped towards him, unsure and glancing twice at Roygaris, who watched closely. When she was close enough, she brought her hand up to his. She hesitated briefly before laying her fingers within his grasp.

"Fucking hell…" they all heard Chase swear beneath his breath. He almost looked back at the officers behind him who were all watching him with their breaths held. He stopped himself from doing so and focused on the woman in front of him. His eyes blazed with hate, enough to make the woman step back. But he held her hand tightly.

Then, he fell to one knee and bowed his head in fealty.

"In accordance to the traditions left by Luscious Symphon Melodic, the founder of our order, whosoever wears his coat is designated First Symphony, King of the Researcher Symphonies."

"...Huh?" squeaked the woman.

The room was quiet as the rest of the Researchers saluted. Some willingly and others with clear disinclination.

0-0-0

She was drifting down an endless abyss. The light was fading away from her. Memories of loved ones were blinking out one at a time. She shut her eyes and let the darkness take her. She felt a hundred hands of the other side embrace her.

Something stopped her descent, like a line tied around her waist. It hurt. The hands broke free as her body arched against the pull. She felt her body rise back up towards the light. When she opened her eyes, the twinkling lights of her memories were returning. But… they were coming together, twisting and stretching to form a rope.

The memories were forgotten once again as each one sacrificed themselves to pull her free. The last thing she saw was a small child, too young to create coherent words, and so much like her it hurt to gaze on.

Like the others, it was forgotten.

She gasped for air as soon as the light enveloped her. It was like breaking out of the surface of water. Pain and sensation returned to her next. The brightness and heat surrounding her was intense. She tossed and flailed around, thinking she would drown again. The only thing to swim against was the ocean of sand in every direction.

Her head swiveled around, trying to regain her bearings. Though she had flung sand here and there, there was no mistaking or hiding the stains of blood around her. A corpse lay several yards from her. There was another body near her, standing and watching her with a patient gaze.

She flipped herself to her bottom and crawled away as fast as she could. The figure watched her with the unbroken concentration one would need to watch grass grow. It was a woman at the peak of her maturity. She was gorgeous, impossibly so. Inhumanly so. There wasn't a single flaw to be found. Her hair was as golden as sunshine and eyes as blue as the sky. She dressed in a silver long coat that reflected the sun above them.

She crawled further away when the woman's skin, hair, and eye color all changed color. Auburn hair, peached skin, and brown eyes.

"Who…" she began but found she was out of breath. She gasped and put a hand to her chest, trying to stop her heart from pounding against her chest.

"You will die again if you do not calm yourself," the woman said in a neutral, tranquil tone. It was something someone used when describing the weather. "The Rulers here enforce the laws of death more here than there. You do not have enough for me to pull you out again."

She raised her hand. In her grip was a tassel… a tassel with each knot being a precious memory.

Two names escaped her lips. She knew who those were when looking at the tassel. She flipped over and tried to stand, only to fall onto her knees. Desperately, she crawled forward and tried to reach for it. "Give that back. Those are mine!"

The woman observed her before curling her fingers around the tassel. When next the hand opened it was gone. As soon as it was out of sight she forgot who she called out for… or why she was crying. She only knew the woman took something priceless from her.

"Your story had ended," the woman said as she crouched down. Hands reached for her and she didn't resist when the other tried to climb up to her. "Your next story starts now. This is the price for it."

"Back…" she tried to pull the sleeve back where the tassel had to have been hidden. The woman didn't resist. There was only skin revealed within. "Give it back. Please…"

"You will die," the woman said calmly.

"I don't care."

"The World will swallow you again. It will remember the end of your story and repeat it to restore natural order."

"I. Don't. Care!"

"You will forget them regardless. Will you fade away and forget them, or will you remain and forge new memories? You may also see them again one day. They will remember you."

She quietly sobbed while clutching onto the woman's cloak. She didn't know how long she remained like this, clinging onto this living statue. Two color changes had gone through the woman by the time she finished.

"Who are you?" she asked, moving off of the woman finally.

The woman considered the question as though she were considering the meaning of life itself. "I am… No One. I do not belong here. My names before do not matter here."

"Then…" she started to grow frantic. "Tell me who I am."

"You are you," was the calm answer. "Who you were before does not matter. You are… new. Go now. Your story starts here."

The woman stood and there was nothing she could do to stop her. It was like trying to stop a force of nature. She fell back onto the sand when her strength failed to keep its grip. "That's not fair. That's not fair at all! What… What am I supposed to do? Where do I go? Who knows about me?"

A hand reached down. She took it and the woman pulled her up to her feet. The hand came for her again, cupping her cheek and raising her head. Silver eyes bore into the eyes of every season on the planet.

"You are god-touched," the woman spoke in a soft, gentle voice. "Just as they are. You will find everything you need in... the World calls it… Menagerie. Find the ones who call themselves Researchers. They will welcome you with this."

With one fluid motion did the woman remove her coat and throw it around her shoulders. She clutched it tightly closed as though it were a blanket… as though it were a pair of arms to comfort her. And, strangely, it felt like it. The fabric felt… alive. It cared for her. It wanted to protect her and swore it would.

"This coat, woven out of a Daydream, will protect you on your journey. By nature, by those who wish you harm, and by the darkness within man's heart."

"But… what about you?" she asked with concern. "You don't have any protection. The desert alone could kill you."

The woman considered this. She reached out for something at her side. And, like a coat hanging on a rack within her reach, she pulled the very sunlight itself out of the air. No One then slipped her arms into it and threw over the hood. The fabric was so bright it left her face hidden by shadow.

"Are you… a god?" she asked, terror and awe rising out of her. "Are you the God of Light?"

No One considered this. "Perhaps I was one at another time. But, no, your World says I am not Jacob. Nor am I Wilhelm. Go now."

The woman pointed one way before turning and started to walk away in another direction.

"Where are you going?" she called out to her.

"To buy you all more time," No One answered.

The best way to describe what happened next would be to say the woman grabbed ahold of the wind and was carried off like a cloud of dust. There was no trace of her.

She was left alone with nothing but the silver coat and vague instructions. It was all she had. Her feet started to guide her onward before she knew it.

0-0-0

"WHY?!" Chase shouted what everyone was thinking. And just as loudly as they wanted to.

He and Ghira both agreed a recess was needed. The chieftain had been kind enough to let them have the council room to themselves while the rest of the council members moved to another room. After securing the perimeter from eavesdropping guards and attendants, he insisted the new Researcher King to tell her side of the story.

He had been calm in appearance only. When he heard the final detail and realized _that was it,_ he snapped. A pulse of Aura slipped beyond his control. Fortunately all it did was knock the podium over.

The Researcher King, meanwhile, was shaking where she stood.

"Are we all going to brush by the fact that coat is made from _a _Daydream?" Isaac looked among his peers. "Like the same way Luscious made ours out of Nightmares? Not _the _Daydream but a, _singular_, Daydream? Anyone? Yes? Yes we are brushing this under. Carry on, commander."

"What're we going to do, commander?" Travis asked. He continued to shift the placement of his hands, not liking the fact he couldn't carry any of his swords in here.

"Anyone in favor of abdicating the throne?" Chase growled with his brows falling into a flat line. The only one to raise his hand was Isaac, who shared glances with everyone else and thought twice. His hand went back down. More than half of the officers were against acknowledging this new king but were traditionalists to a fault.

Prime example: they let _him _be Second Symphony not for his intelligence or charisma. Especially not because of his maturity. They let him be for his power alone.

The rest didn't care or wasn't sure. Alice was too busy reading her damn book, Pinky stared at her feet uncomfortably, and Alec shrugged without a care in the world.

"Then I guess we have no choice but to follow tradition," Chase sassed back.

"I can't be your king!" the lady was on the verge of a full panic. "I don't know anything about you people! And I'm a woman!"

"So was Strings," Monk shrugged.

"Was that the stranger's name?" she asked, desperation and a hunger for any information clear in her voice.

"Erm… no," Monk shrugged again and shifted around on the balls of his feet. "Just what we called her. She's an Acolyte with the String affinity."

"Can she even be our king?" Marla asked with indignation. "She's not even an Acolyte… are you?"

"I don't know what that is," she answered with mental fatigue taking its toll.

Marla approached and silently gestured for the woman's hand. She was skeptical at first but eventually gave it. Marla held it loosely before dropping it. "Nope. She's completely mundane."

"Strings said she was god-touched," Travis offered. "Think maybe she's different? Maybe she's got something a Tuner can't pick up on?"

"...Maybe," Marla admitted sourly. It bothered her how there was something she couldn't pick up despite her level of skill. "I would need to do a full sweep to make sure."

"I was told you could help me," the woman said, clutching her hands together. Her fingers played with each other with anxiety. "I crossed the desert and found someone who took pity on me. They let me travel to Menagerie. I have nowhere else to go and I don't know who I am."

"Yeah, I don't know _how _to help you with that," Chase jabbed his hand her way before moving it to massage his temple. "We're kinda in the middle of our own problem right now. Either A, we kill everyone here and move on or B, we work things out and nobody has to die. And right now you arriving with that coat throws two wrenches in the works. One, we might all have to deal with a civil war over whether you are king or not. And two, Menagerie now thinks we're full of shit and can't be trusted. You've no idea how close we are to Situation A right now."

"I… I didn't mean for this to happen!" the woman started to hyperventilate. "H-Here. Take the coat! I don't need it! One of you can be king and… H-Hold on. I'll give it to… Why… Why can't I take this off? Why can't I take this off?!"

She tried to unbuckle it. As she had at least been around for a few weeks, she had learned all the straps, buckles, and zippers within the coat. She knew how to undo it. But as she tried right now, the coat was fighting against her.

"Because Luscious was a quack," Chase answered her bluntly. "Do you really think a sane man would name a world-renowned scholarly order the Researcher _Symphonies_?"

Albert, Isaac, and Alec, the surviving members of the original Researchers, either shrugged or nodded in agreement. Chase watched a moment while the woman continued to wrestle with the coat to the point of hysteria.

"Okay, okay, stop," he stepped up and placed his hands on her shoulder. She did but was still breathing heavily. He gave her a little shake. "Look at me. You can take the coat off when you want but you can't give it away nonchalantly. There are rules. Stupid rules, but rules."

"Like… Like what?" she looked at him, eyes crazed and on the verge of a mental breakdown.

"First and foremost, whoever kills you gets to keep the coat," he said bluntly. It did not help her as she started to hyperventilate again. "_Or_, listen closely now, you give it to the person who the king before you deems worthy. Since that coat is working against you, it means none of us are worthy in Strings' eyes."

He let go of the woman to let her mull over his words. At the same time, he felt the stare of his officers behind him. They all knew he killed Luscious, though they didn't know the entire truth of the man's identity. They also knew he delivered the coat to the Warden of the Well, whom they all called Strings. What they didn't know were the conditions bound to the coat itself.

"Then…" the woman started to breathe a little easier. "Who do I give this to?"

"Fuck if any of us know," Chase muttered with a shake of his head. "Strings… kept to herself most of the time. I wouldn't even begin to guess what she wants. You're going to have to figure that out on your own. For the time being, you're stuck with that. And, you're stuck with us."

"But… why me?" she asked next. "Why did that person bring me back? Why am I the ki— the monarch to a band of people I don't know? You don't even know who I am! _I _don't even know who I am!"

"Yes, commander," Travis egged him on. "If the coat can only be given by the First Symphony before the last, what condition did you have? I mean… you _were _king for, what, a week? After you killed Luscious."

"I intended on Strings being the last Researcher King," Chase snapped back over his shoulder. "I didn't ever think she'd give the coat away."

"Yet she did," Marla pointed out. "We're not on Earth anymore. There is no war. Which means the reason why she became our king in the first place is no longer valid. So, I'd like to echo Travis' question. What kind of king did you want?"

All eyes were on him. Even Alice's, who closed her book with an audible snap. They weren't going to let this go. Ignoring them or avoiding the question would only turn them against him. While there were plenty of things they wouldn't try against him, there were some things he couldn't force even with his vast power. Two-thirds of them were traditionalists, having been recruited by the underdark order of Legion that followed a cult mentality.

He stared back at the woman, who was watching him intensely. Like a damn pup that wanted all the love and attention of their new master and was afraid of getting beaten or abandoned. How a grown-ass-woman gave him such a look was beyond him. It was unnatural. And damn her for being able to pull it off.

"Maybe… another time," she said before he (with great begrudging effort) could. "I'm sorry my arrival has caused you all so much trouble. I'm just… lost. I was told you could help me. But I didn't realize your situation was just as dire. Please, what will I need to tell Mr Kongfree that you all mean well? You… _do _mean well, don't you?"

"The first thing we need to figure out is what to do about you," Chase said, speaking not only to her but to the rest of his officers. "We stand in the presence of a new king. One who is not an Acolyte at that. Further bartering with Menagerie will have to be put on hold. At least until we can educate our king on the principles and practices of the Researcher Symphonies."

"You know," Alice spoke up with raised brows, "that actually sounded professional of you, Chase."

"There is three hundred miles of desert for me to bury you under, Nyte," he hissed back.

She stuck her tongue out and went back to reading her book.

"This can throw a lot of wrenches in our foundation," Albert spoke up with consideration. "Another king, huh? Not sure how the rank and file members will take it. Unfortunately, commander, that is no longer your decision to make. You are no longer the highest ranking member currently present."

He wanted nothing more than to burn a hole through Albert's scalp. "And you would follow the whim of a king who can't make rational decisions?"

"No, but credibility is due," Albert shrugged. "After all, _you _were the one who picked her. We've been following you this long. Surely you couldn't have made a mistake in the crowning process?"

"This is so fucked up," Monk groaned as he rubbed a hand down his face. "But, yeah, Al's right. Look, boss, them's the rules. So, uh, little missy? What do _you _want to do right now?"

"You mean _Your Majesty_," corrected Marla with a sharp tone.

"Pretty sure it's Highness," Isaac added his two-cents. "I think 'your majesty' belongs to anyone of direct royalty while 'highness' belongs to the person in charge. You know, like of the _highest _rank?"

"All of you can shut up!" Chase shouted with some of his Aura leaking out. King present or not, they all obeyed as they froze before his power. "Until the king is capable of making a rational, educated decision, we will put all business with Menagerie on hold. We will be returning to camp and make a group decision there. Do you all understand?"

"Yes, sir!" more than half of them responded like the trained monkeys they were.

"And you," he whirled and pointed a finger at the woman… who was annoyingly a few inches taller than him. Still, she backed up with fear in her eyes. "We will get to the bottom of you soon enough. If you want us to help you, help us first. Keep quiet, keep your head down, and listen only to the ten of us. Do you understand?"

It might have been the thick miasma of his Aura in the air, but all she could do was nod her head in rapid, terrified motions. Hell, she was leaning so far back she should have fallen over. It was the pressure of his Aura keeping her upright, casing her in a layer of hot and cold metaphysical energy.

"Bring her to camp," he said as he stood straight and swallowed his emotions. The pressure of Aura sank back into his body, making the woman fall onto her rear and his officers taking relieving breaths of air. "I will speak with Belladonna in the meantime. Gather all Orchestras for an announcement for when I return."

They obeyed without question. Pinky and Marla took the woman by her hands and graciously led her away from his heated gaze. The rest donned their masks, fell back into formation, and marched out of the room. They assumed a defensive position as they kept the new king in the middle of their formation.

In the meantime, Chase let out another breath. Tongues of fire lashed out. He looked around. Some of the chairs had been crushed and some of the weaker wood looked like a gorilla had gripped them to the point of breaking. Splinters poked out here and there.

He'd have to explain this to Ghira. He'd have to explain a lot of things to the man. To mitigate even an ounce of damages… he put the podium back on place.

...It collapsed under its own weight when uprighted. He swore.

0-0-0

"You're here again," Chase said as soon as he threw back the flap to his tent. His brows had already been in a flat line for the past two hours. Now they fell further until half of his vision was covered.

"So I am," Sienna Khan said casually from his cot. She lay sideways with her elbow propped on his pillow and…

"And you're eating my peaches," his right brow twitched. It twitched so hard he had to shut his eyes.

"So I am," she repeated, stabbing a toothpick into the open can and taking another syrupy piece of fruit. She never broke eye contact from him as she did.

"I was saving those," he growled as he entered his tent and took a seat on the stool across from the cot. Beside it was a small table that he used as a desk. He propped his elbow on it and let his chin rest on the back of his hand.

"For what?" she asked, digging around the can until she found the perfect piece to consume.

"Oh, you know," he sighed and waved his other hand in the air. "For when I needed at least _something _good in my life to happen. But I can't even have that, apparently. Now I have this fucking cat using my bed and eating my food. Are you gonna take a crap on the carpet while you're at it?"

She stopped eating and narrowed her eyes, "Y'know… that almost sounded racist."

"If it will get you to leave, then it was. Now fuck off and go away."

She sat up and put the can to her feet. "Well. Something's got your panties in a twist. Does it have anything to do with the fact you're no longer in power?"

"No," he said… a little too quickly. "Yes. I don't know. What are you even doing here, Sienna? Don't you have a post to scratch?"

"Now you're just trying to be racist," she rolled her eyes. "Your men let me through. They seem to be under the impression I'm sleeping with you."

"They think I'm sleeping with _Alice_," he sat up a little straighter, letting his arm lean on the edge of the table. "Have you seen how old she looks? And acts? I'm surprised— Forget that. You didn't answer my question."

She pointed to the corner of the tent in a silent request. He waved his hand at her. She crossed the distance and pulled two beers from the wooden crate. She had the decency (this time) to offer one of them to him. She opened hers with a claw while he produced an opener out of ice before letting it fade away into mist. His hand chilled the bottle. She extended hers towards him, he gave her a flat glare, but then pressed a finger against the base. Frost covered the glass as she pulled it away.

"I'll never get used to that," she commented before taking a swig. She switched hands while flicking some of the frost off of her fingers. "I'm here because Ghira is afraid. You left the audience in a hurry and he thinks you might retaliate for Kongfree embarrassing you. I'm supposed to talk you out of it if you are."

He drowned the entire bottle in a quick breath before slamming it down onto the table. He didn't answer immediately as he mulled over today's events. Yes, he did see the worry in Ghira's eyes when he announced his departure. His Researchers also had mixed feelings about allowing a non-Acolyte be their First Symphony. They would have been more included to allow a Tuner, the Acolyte's equivalent of a retard, as king.

The whole civil war possibility hadn't been a joke. Some members came from the Observatory, some came from Legion, and some came with Alice as Hunters. The mixed pot of Researchers had different ideologies with only three members in the entire order following Luscious' direct values. Ideals were going to clash.

Suffice to say, he was too busy dealing with inner conflict to worry about Menagerie. But he also had no reason to tell Sienna this.

"Menagerie has nothing to worry about," he told her. "This is a Researcher problem and doesn't concern you. You can tell Ghira I will resume negotiations once we have our new king settled."

"How about something off record then?" she asked, sprawling herself over his cot once more.

"You're not even an official member of anything," he shook his head. "Fine. What is it?"

"Does having this person in charge change anything?"

He gave her a blunt look. "Of course it does. What, do you think if someone replaced Ghira things will remain the same?"

"Then why let it happen?"

"Because the people I command are morons who latch onto customs as though they were lifelines," he spat with venom. "And, unfortunately, they would stop obeying me if I broke their beliefs."

"You sound like you have no respect for people, Rolan," she commented casually but paid close attention to him. He noticed and let it show through narrowed eyes.

"That's because I don't," he stared straight at her. He pointed at the tent flap, "Those I command are heroes who have defended the honor of their people against an enemy they have no hope of defeating. And yet it was the people who damned them all. They are admirable but they are stupid. That's why there's less than a hundred of them left out of the thousand we started with."

She watched him closely, trying to read something out of his expression. "They. Are you not one of them?"

"No, I was never one of them. I am the monster of this story. I kill people."

"And in turn are killed by the hero," she finished with a frown. "I think I understand what kind of person you are, Rolan. You don't care at all about peace, do you?"

"Peace is to wait for the next confrontation," he quoted, though he couldn't recall who had said it or where he had heard that line before. "I only care about surviving. If Menagerie wishes to help us, we will do all that we can to ensure a friendly relationship. But should they turn against us…"

He shrugged and left it up for her interpretation.

"Ghira wants peace," she said solemnly. "He sees something in you no matter how much I warn him. Personally, I think you're nothing but a warmonger. You look like a man waiting to stab his next victim. But I trust him. I can only hope I'm not wrong."

"Your opinion is cute but irrelevant," he returned while brushing invisible dust off of the table. "Let me ask you something. What do you know about the woman Roygaris Kongfree had in his possession?"

"I thought my opinion is irrelevant," she gave him a flat look.

"So you can learn!" he said incredulously. "Good. Now get out."

He turned his back to her and focused on the pieces of scrap paper on his desk. They were mostly notes and reports going on around camp. They were things he had reviewed already but made a show of looking through them to tell Sienna he was done with her. He heard her shuffle on his cot, get up, and start to walk away.

The pendant hidden within his coat began to vibrate. Sending Aura through it… he received a message.

"Wait," he said hurriedly and in a low voice. He was out of his seat with a hand gripping her arm quickly. She almost retaliated with a raised claw if she didn't see the look on his face.

"What is it?" she asked in a low voice, though she kept her hand raised with her claws extended.

"An intruder is roaming around camp. One of my men is dead. You're coming with me to find him."

0-0-0

Patience was a virtue… someone important once said. And patient he was! After looking around, cutting up a few Faunus here and there, his tracks led him where he needed. And look! The humans in black had his target amongst their midst!

Now the real question was how to get to her?

Sneaking out of Menagerie was the easy part. Getting to the outside encampment was… challenging. They had four patrols walking around the encirclement along with guards stationed at each of the cardinal directions. Strangely enough, they carried no weapons on their person unless they contained daggers and small firearms hidden within their coats.

He had to wait until night. And wait he did.

Towards the far edge of the camp were trenches used as latrines. Even better, tents had been set up so each black-coated member could tend to their business in private. Uniformed individuals came and went but Tyrian Callows waited for the perfect moment. He waited until one man entered by himself when no one else was there and the patrols had a gap in their visuals.

He struck, killing the man with his pants down, dragging him out of the tent and tossing his body a few meters away from the trenches. The shadow of night hid him from view.

He donned the man's coat… and found it delightful. It breathed well. It protected him from the bitter cold of the desert night. And what he found most strange, his aura seemed to seep into the fabrics as though it were a second skin.

He cackled as he threw over the hood and walked back to the tent. He entered from behind, exited through the front, and removed the 'occupied' sign staked at the flap. The patrols circled around as he walked towards camp and paid him no mind when he entered.

"What do you think?" he heard someone say in passing to another.

"Don't know," said his fellow. "Commander says she's the new king."

"Yeah but she ain't an Acolyte."

"I don't know, Bernard! I'm just trying to keep my head above water. Look, let's just wait to see what happens and…" the voice trailed out of hearing as he passed on.

Most conversations around him were like this. Talk about some new leader in their ranks. He pieced together some keywords and formed a structural understanding within this order. Acolytes, Researchers, Symphonies and Orchestras. Oh, and of course, _King_.

No one stopped him as he walked through with purposed steps. The main point of blending in was to look like you knew where you were going. Though he didn't, he continued to walk on as though he knew.

It was inevitable with so many people in a small encampment but he had eventually bumped into someone. A young woman with no distinct quality. She apologized, or started to, but stopped suddenly. When next he looked, wondering if his cover had been blown, she apologized again and hurried off.

He paid it no mind. He should have.

Around him, men and women were pulling out pendants out of the collar of their uniforms. They grasped glowing gems between their fingers and listened intently as if the jewelry were talking to them. Eyes narrowed and he felt… pressure. Some sort of electrical current flowed through the air and consumed the camp. It felt unnatural.

"Hey, friend," someone said as they stepped in front of him. This was a grown man with a beard and cracked lips. "What Orchestra are you from? This is the Ninth barrack's."

"Fourth," Tyrian answered with a toothy smile. "My captain told me to patrol around the camp in case…"

The man's eyes sharpened. The pressure increased as though a lead blanket fell on Tyrian's shoulders. Others within earshot surrounded him.

His cover had been blown.

He rushed the man in front of him, twin blades strapped to his wrist hidden by the sleeves of the coat at the ready. The man was just as fast— a trained huntsman? Tyrian lashed at the man and the man's aura protected him from the worst blows. He could have sworn he cut into the man but there was no blood on his weapons. A Semblance, perhaps? It didn't matter; he broke through their formation and rushed through.

"Intruder!" shouted the man and several others.

Tyrian's instincts kicked over. He dodged… a flaming projectile coming at his back. It wasn't anywhere near as potent as a Maiden's magic. He had to assume it was the man's Semblance and continued on, sprinting past tents and rounding corners to throw off his pursuers.

The deeper he went into camp… the stronger the pressure felt. It was as though the weights of this metaphorical blanket had increased. It was becoming difficult to breathe.

"Here!" someone shouted. When next he rounded a corner did he come across another set of black coats. They raised their palms and… he was knocked off his feet by an invisible force. The wind itself had hit him like a hammer to the chest.

He flipped over and landed on his feet. Something wasn't right. That power… it was equal to a Maiden's. But their eyes didn't burn with the divine light. And he was sure the one in the middle had been a man. It couldn't have just been a Semblance, could it? Perhaps… an exceptionally powerful one?

"DIBS!" someone shouted from behind him… and coming closer at an alarming rate. "I CALL DIBS!"

He spun and raised his arm blades in time to intercept a blade of lightning protruding out of a sword hilt. Lightning arced through his weapons and ran up his arms. His aura protected him from the worst of it but didn't stop his muscles from locking.

The one in front of him was nothing more than a boy. He couldn't have been any older than a huntsman trainee… but had golden eyes glowing so brightly they left a shadow on their face.

Another hilt appeared from beneath his coat. Lightning shot out of it and he brought it around in another swing. Tyrian had no choice but to disengage, but lightning still continued to arc and reach him mid jump.

"That's quite the Semblance you have there," he cackled as his heart began to pump. Excitement nulled the pain. Or was that his frayed nerves? He didn't care.

"All the better to kick your ass, grandma!" the boy smiled with just as much excitement. He threw open his coat while tossing the two hilts up into the air. They floated in place… and four more flew out from his belt. Blades of lightning emerged and pointed their tips at Tyrian.

He didn't have a chance to reconsider his position as the boy launched forward, kicking hard enough to blow sand everywhere behind him. Lightning surged in a net as each blade swung down at Tyrian in unison. Tyrian, however, was unequipped to deal with such an onslaught. He had to retreat.

A heavy blow to his back stopped his attempt. Not only did it stop him from dodging the arcing lightning but it sent him flat on the ground. In the corner of his eye he saw another boy of the same age reel his fist back.

"Hey, Germs! I called dibs!" the first boy shouted with heavy frustration as he pointed a finger at him.

"This man killed one of our own," the other boy said while never looking away from Tyrian. "Commander Rolan wants him alive. We are to subdue him by any means, Isaac."

Isaac let out a long groan. He even arched his back and stared up at the heavens as though the gods were to blame.

"Such a warm welcoming I'm given," Tyrian cackled as he rose back to his feet. His body swayed in feigned infliction. "All this because I was minding my own business?"

"You killed one of us!" accused the second boy. Tyrian very highly doubted his actual name was Germs. Shame on his mother if it was.

"Oh, him?" Tyrian laughed hard enough to hold his own gut. "That one merely got in my way. No, no, no. I'm only here for the woman with the silver eyes. I'll be on my merry way once I've concluded my… unfinished business with her."

Both boys' eyes hardened. Tyrian saw a low wave sweep through the sand before it reached him. It came before he could react. Once it had reached him did he feel a thousand pounds press down on his shoulders. His stance left a crater that knocked down the tents around him. He gritted his teeth as he fought the urge to fall to his knees.

The pressure from before hadn't been imagined. It was a literal thing. It was coming from each of these freaks. From the two boys as well as the other black coats that had pursued him. This was more than just a Semblance. This was something else entirely.

"You will _not _touch the king," said the first boy, Isaac. All excitement for bloodshed was gone from him. The six swords of lightning deactivated and flew back onto his belt. In its stead, lightning cackled around his person, focusing mainly around his clenched fists.

That. That was on par to a Maiden's power. Impossible. Blasphemous. A man should not possess this kind of power!

The black coats had no problem moving in this pressure. The second boy became a blur as he rushed forward, faster than a blink. A fist crossed Tyrian's face. His aura should have protected him but he felt something more than a huntsman's enhanced fist. He felt something bypass his aura. If his aura were his actual skin, then the boy's Semblance was to have brass knuckles. Tyrian's jaw shattered upon impact.

It didn't stop there. Three consecutive strikes followed through. Tyrian tried to defend, tried to swipe at the boy. But that damn pressure slowed his movements enough for the boy to deflect them with ease. A knee, another fist, and then a rising kick thrashed against Tyrian. Each time did his aura fail him and deal actual damage to his body.

In the back of his mind, he made note on how the boy made sure to hit parts of his body the coat did not cover.

His back hit the sand. He felt his aura flicker out. The boy's attacks had done more than just damage him internally; it had broken his aura as well.

Then came Isaac's retribution. Lightning surged out of his hand where Tyrian lay. The Faunus screamed as pain flared and his body twisted and turned against his will.

He stopped short of killing a normal man. But Tyrian was more than that. They thought they were done with him. But when they lowered their guard and reported their location through their pendants… Tyrian struck.

He leapt back onto his feet and charged at them. His Semblance activated, coating his blades with piercing and poisonous aura. They spun around in alarm, sensing his approach. It didn't matter; there was no time for them to react. Tyrian leapt at the boy with a lightning Semblance.

"Freeze," a deep voice commanded as if it were his god-given right.

Tyrian felt… nothing but cold consume him. He stopped short in mid-air, blades extended and inches away from Isaac's startled face. He couldn't move his body as he saw particles of ice crawl across his arm and envelope him. He fought, jerking his body wherever he could. But nothing would listen to his command.

He was a living statue of ice, suspended in air.

"For fuck's sake," someone else howled in aggitation. In the corner of his eye, Tyrian saw yet a third boy approach. This one wore a white coat. "How many times do I have to tell you fucks? Do NOT let your guard down no matter what. Capture the fucking culprit before doing anything else."

"Yes, commander, sir!" the second boy turned and saluted, one hand at his hip and a fist across his chest. "I will learn from this! We did not expect this level of resilience from him."

"Yeah, no kidding," sighed Isaac as he observed Tyrian. "Lit the guy up enough to signal for Batman… Is that racist? I feel like that's racist here."

"Alright Khan, do you— if ANY of you so much as shout I will blow your brains out!" the boy, the commander of this troupe, pointed a glowing red ringer at every black coat around him. Several of them coughed. He then returned to the tiger Faunus close behind him. "Do you recognize this man?"

"No, should I?" the woman asked while eying the suspended Tyrian.

"Because he has the same biological signature as any other Faunus," the commander answered bluntly.

"What's going on?" demanded a feminine voice. Tyrian's eyes flicked to his right (as he couldn't move his head) and found his target approaching the group. She was clad in a silver coat instead of her huntsman garbs. Her weapon was also misplaced. She was defenseless.

"Oh. Your Majesty," the commander's retort was blunt and bland. "Good of you to join us."

"What?" the woman blinked. "You're the one who told me to come here. What are you doing with this man—"

While he had been encased in ice, there were parts of him that were still protected. The black coat he stole sought to that. His scorpion Faunus tail, that had been wrapped around his waist to hide his identity, uncoiled and sprung forth. It pierced through the ice and went straight for the woman approaching his side. Her eyes widened as she realized something deadly was coming for her.

There came a flash of silver. He screamed in pain as the tail was severed at the tip. One of the black coats accompanying his target had anticipated his strike and unsheathed his sword faster than even the best huntsmen. The pin missed her as it sailed over her head. She stumbled back and fell down in shock at what just happened.

"And there we have it," the commander said dryly. "Now we know who he was really after. I knew someone would come after you, Your Majesty, but I didn't expect it this soon."

"Y-You…" the woman said with a frightened, shaky voice. "You tried to kill me. Why? What do you know about me? Tell me! Were you the one who killed me before?!"

Tyrian laughed. It hurt to do so as the ice kept him in place and his body heat was dropping rapidly. But he forced himself to laugh. He could not move his jaw to answer her question, though he wished he could. In her state, she must have suffered enough blood loss to lose her memories. She had no idea who she was or the threat she posed to his goddess.

Well, well, well. It looks like he hadn't failed his goddess after all.

"Jeremy," the commander said.

"With pleasure," the second boy, 'Germs', acknowledged with satisfaction. He took in a deep breath with his fists pulled back to his chest. When he released that breath, he spun and brought his heel around. It was the last thing Tyrian saw.

0-0-0

"Chase, listen to me," Sienna began with a panic. She finally realized why he had dragged her along for this. "I swear to you, Menagerie has nothing to do with this."

"Funny," Chase said in a low growl. "I saw him earlier on my way to the council meeting. For the time being, I'm going to assume Menagerie is behind this. Feel free to tell Ghira; I know he doesn't have the stomach to send an assassin. But someone else did."

Chase released his technique. The body of the bleeding scorpion Faunus fell into the sand. He was quickly hogtied and dragged away by Isaac's men.

"What are you going to do?" Sienna asked, worry etched in her voice. His response had only concerned her further.

"Uphold my end of the bargain to our king," he said while watching the human woman across from him. She was being comforted by Marla, the head medic of the Researchers. "She said in her story there was a corpse across from her and some blood. There had to have been a battle. Someone was after her. The assassin right now only proves they're not going to stop. I need to figure out who that is and why they're after her.

"One of my men is dead, Sienna," he turned to stare hard with his glowing eyes. "I do not forget and I do not forgive. Tell Ghira this; if I find out anyone from Menagerie was behind this, I will personally burn the city to the ground. This wouldn't be the first civilization I laid waste to."

He knew from the look in her eyes she understood. She knew it wasn't a joke or an exaggeration. He could see her reliving the demonstration days ago against the Grimm. He could see her imagining Menagerie covered in flames instead of snow. Her dark complexion paled with an almost greenish hue.

He knew Menagerie wasn't behind this. That didn't mean he couldn't exploit it to its fullest.

"Commander," he turned to regard the newly crowned king. She approached him with Travis and Marla in tow. She eyed the assassin briefly before looking back at him. "What will you be doing with that man?"

"He tried to take your life," he responded plainly. "I will be interrogating him of any knowledge he may possess. Then, I will turn him to Menagerie and see what they intend to do with him."

"And… you will pass what you learn to me?" she asked with hope.

"Naturally," he lied. He said nothing else as he held her gaze. The trick of telling a convincing lie was eye contact and not saying what was more than necessary.

Her eyes softened with sweet relief. "Thank you. Now… did you just call me here as bait?"

"I needed to see who he was after," he repeated what he just told Sienna. "I assumed he was targeting one of the officers and thought it better to bring them all here. Did he target you because you are our new leader or is he someone from your past? We'll have to find out soon enough."

"And what would have happened if someone died?" she asked next.

"Someone did die," he said in a low voice. Her eyes widened as a hand covered her mouth. "The assassin took out a member of the Twelfth and stole his coat to infiltrate. Travis, I need your Orchestra to lock down the camp. No one goes in or out. Jeremy, your Orchestra will lead the investigation. Find out how exactly he got through and what holes we need to fill in our security."

"Yes sir," the Seventh and Fifth Symphonies saluted respectively. Travis then asked, "What about the king, commander? I'm currently tasked with protecting her."

"Her Royal Highness will be staying in my quarters for the time being," he said while locking eyes with the First Symphony. His gaze left no room for argument. When the message was received, he called out further orders. "Marla, see what you can find out about our assassin. Isaac, stay by her side and make sure he doesn't try to escape."

"Permission to light him up like a tree, commander?" Isaac saluted with enthusiasm.

"Only if Marla is put in danger. One last thing, Travis. Please escort Sienna off the premises. She is the last one to leave before we lock down. That is all."

Each Researcher, officer and grunt, save the female king, saluted at him before hurrying off with their orders. Travis gestured for Sienna to follow him; the tiger Faunus gave Chase one last look before following the Seventh Symphony. She was trying to convince him she had nothing to do with this. He knew but pretended to doubt her.

"What can I do?" the king asked.

"Just follow me and pretend you're in complete control," he said as he turned and started to head back to his tent. She hurried after him, choosing to walk at his side rather than behind. She was _king _after all. It might have looked bad if the First was following the Second.

He stopped occasionally to give commands and explanations to what Researchers needed it. He found Alec and told him he and his Orchestra were to be on Grimm duty. This much Aura permeating the air was going to gather them like gnats. The Twelfth Symphony scratched his head and muttered something beneath his breath but complied.

Albert reported in via Aura pendant. Chase told him the situation and ordered him to be on standby. He also sent messages to Alice and Pinky. The former didn't respond while the latter did.

By the time he finished, they had reached his tent. He held the flap open for the king to step through. She did but stopped at the entry as she looked around. His tent was bigger than most but nowhere near luxurious (like the selfish Alice who demanded a queen size bed in hers and wouldn't stop throwing a tantrum until the Sixth Orchestra made her one). He had a single cot with blankets and a pillow, a small trunk for what spare clothes Menagerie offered, a pile of foodstock, and a table with stool. There was no light; he didn't need one courtesy of his Acolyte eyes.

Nevertheless, he created an orb of fire and let it float lazily in the air. Just because he could see in the dark didn't mean his human king couldn't.

"There's only one bed," she commented. Her eyes flicked over towards him with suspicion.

"You will be sleeping there," he moved around her and went back to the stool. "Don't worry, Your Majesty. You're not my type. And, in case you haven't noticed, we're kinda in the middle of something."

She moved towards the cot, walking sideways so to fully face him. Her eyes watched him like a hawk and he gave her a dull glance in the meantime. She sat down, knees together and hands flat on her lap. She wasn't going to drop her guard around him.

"And where will you sleep?" she asked while briefly glancing around. Her eyes landed on one spot on the floor. He could use it if he folded his knees to his chest.

"I don't sleep," he said plainly. He gestured to the papers spread across the table. "The curse of being me."

She was looking at him differently. Closely and intently. He saw her eyes trace around his face, taking in his permanent scowl, his sunken eyes, and every scar. Her eyes fell to his hand. She was looking at those scars too and trying to piece together a story.

"I'm sorry," she said as she looked away.

"I don't accept your apology," he said while rolling his hand around, examining the missing chunks of flesh and pale splotches of regenerated tissue. "It's not going to make them go away. And you're not the one who did this to me."

"Then… will you accept my apology for tonight?" she asked with a downcast look.

"No," he returned with a blunt tone. "No amount of apologies will revive the dead."

"...I'm sorry," she whispered while looking at her clenched hands.

He would have rolled his eyes if he didn't see her shoulder shaking. His brows creased further as he exhaled. "We don't accept apologies here. We don't give them either. Mistakes and accidents will always happen. We've come to agree that most of them are out of our control. The trick isn't to linger on it. We learn and make sure it doesn't happen again."

"But… that doesn't exactly make me feel better," she said bitterly. "How do you get rid of guilt? How can I redeem myself if you won't accept my apology? How do I earn your forgiveness?"

"You don't," he leaned forward and waited. She sensed his glare and lifted her head. "You make sure it doesn't happen again. Regardless if you are at fault for this or not, you are now one of us. You are our king. And…"

He rolled his neck as he took in a deep breath. When he faced the woman again, she was taking in everything about him. She looked more like a child listening to their parent's lecture than a grown-ass woman. Fuck her and her large silver eyes.

"And… maybe that compassion of yours is what we need. We're too familiar with betrayals and bloodshed. It'll be nice to have an actual nice person around here."

"Thank you," she said sincerely. It made his brows twitch with how disgustingly sweet it sounded. "But I don't know what I'm supposed to do. I never thought I would become royalty when coming here."

"Just smile and look pretty," he returned while rubbing his temple. He raised a finger with his other hand, "But first thing's first. We need to figure out what to call you. You sure you can't remember your name?"

She shook her head, "No. Everything… Everything before is gone. I can't remember anything before waking up in that desert. I can't remember my name, where I came from, what I was doing there, or who was trying… who _had _killed me."

"Until we figure out anything, do you have any preferences for a name?"

"Not… particularly," she said while tilting her head and thinking.

"Susan," he offered.

"Why that name?"

"First thing that came to mind. You look like a Susan."

"I'm not really fond of it."

"Stacy?"

"Even less than that."

"Summer."

"Mmm… tempting. I kinda like it. But you're only giving me S names. How about… something that starts with an A?"

"We have _way _too many of those. Alice, Alec, Albert, Marla _Amber, _Monk _Anthony_, plus all the other nameless mooks under their command."

"How about Rose? I don't know why but that just came to me."

"We have a Rose so that's probably why. Two of them. Rose li Red and Travis Rose."

"Boo. I liked that name. What about…"

The mood lightened gradually as they went through names. He made a list for her of all her favorites. Some were common American names, some were based on the colors and seasons, and some were of Ilyvandarian origin. But that last part was his insistence. She didn't like any of the names from the world of magicians.

Eventually his duties as commander called. A message came to him through his pendant. The assassin had woken up and was ready for interrogation. He left her with the list and told her to pick one of them by the time he came back.

He put his Grimm mask on as he marched towards the Ninth barracks. He commanded the sandworms deep below to attack anyone who entered his tent, Researcher or not.

0-0-0

Dawn came. Akela's gut told him something was wrong. It never failed him before and it sure as hell wasn't going to start now. So as the sun began to crawl out of the horizon, he stood with a pair of binoculars towards the Researcher base.

And there he saw a single black creature at their edge. A griffin Grimm, being mounted by Commander Rolan and charging for the gates. Its wings flapped just enough to propel itself forward faster than any horse.

Akela squinted and adjusted the binoculars. He swore loud enough to make his men jump.

The commander was dragging a body behind him with a rope. It flailed around as it hit mounds of sand. The unfortunate soul was tied up as though the smallest inch of movement would allow him to break free. A sack had covered his head with a band of rope tying it closed around his neck.

Akela lowered the binoculars when the griffin was close enough. It stopped a good hundred feet away from the gate. His men had their weapons pointed at it. The beast stalked back and forth, snarling and hissing with aggression barely restrained by its rider.

"GHIRA!" shouted Commander Rolan with his inhuman vocal chords. It made Akela's ears ache. Some of his men flinched away. "BRING ME BELLADONNA NOW!"

The boy flung something at the gates, flying no more than thirty feet from his person. A large appendage landed in the sand. It was a scorpion's tail… the size fit perfectly for a Faunus.

Shit. Commander Rolan was hogtying a Faunus.

The Researcher dismounted from his Grimm and smacked its side. The griffin took off running to the side, dragging the body behind it. It turned and ran back towards Rolan, passed him, and kept running. It continued to circle around.

Akela swore again. Today was going to be one of those days.


	4. Chapter 4

Chase brushed back the flap and examined the interior. He stood there, checking every person within. The tent was one of the larger ones used for bunking up to twelve units, which had been renovated to host their prisoner. There were three members of the Tenth Orchestra, including the Tenth Symphony, with only the Ninth Symphony acting as their guard. He was more than enough as he stood straight, arms crossed, and openly hoping for an excuse to shock their prisoner.

Aforementioned prisoner was on a wooden chair with his arms bound behind its back. He was conscious, shoulders shaking with quiet cackles. His eyes met Chase's and the shoulders shook a little more, though it did little to hide the curiosity that was there. There was also a bloodied gag stuffed in his mouth.

"Report," Chase demanded as he entered. Everyone gave a salute and he put them at ease with a wave of his hand. His eyes never looked away from the assassin's, using a bit of Aura to try and pry into the man's mind.

He wasn't exceptionally skilled at it. The war had taught him much— had forced him to learn quickly, rather. But he was a better tactician and even better combatant. The best he could do with eye techniques were the standard Jedi Mind Tricks and reading surface thoughts.

Upon seeing Chase, the man found a resemblance between the two. They were both killers who were exceptionally good at their job.

"He's a Faunus with the scorpion trait," Marla began as she walked around the prisoner. She slid a hand across his shoulders as she walked, using the abilities only a Tuner could. "His body produces a venom that attacks the central nervous system and can quickly shut down the respiratory system in a matter of hours. Travis cut off the stinger but we'll need surgery if we're to extract the gland."

The man wasn't surprised by this, merely annoyed and confused. He was asking himself questions as memories flashed through his mind. Marla had asked him a few questions and got more answers than he had answered, if at all. He also wasn't an idiot. He knew she learned a lot whenever she touched him.

"He also has this innate ability to pierce through another person's defenses," Marla smacked his shoulder one last time before stepping away. She had a perplexed look on her face. "It's… difficult to describe. I want to call it an affinity like ours but it's a lot closer to Pinky's nature. Magical but also… biological. It's a physical part of him."

_Semblance_, flashed through the man's mind. Chase glanced at Isaac, wondering if the Ninth had caught it as well. Other than a brow twitching, Isaac didn't react any further. He kept his attention locked on the assassin.

"How about his identity?" Chase stepped further into the room until he was a good yard away from… _Tyrian Callows. _"His name? Where did he come from? Why did he go after the King? And who sent him?"

Each of these questions were answered. Vaguely with single word answers or the occasional image flashing before it could be focused on. One such image forced his brow to rise.

"Tyrian Callows," Marla said as she pulled out the highest tech of a smartphone he had ever seen from her coat pocket. The device only had a clear slate for a screen and could fold in itself. She handed it over to him but he still refused to look away. "Not much else on that we've found. Some currency they call lien. Coded messages. No way of tracking unless you get the Sixth involved.

"Other than that, he bit his tongue off when he realized we were getting him to talk more than he wanted to. I'll have a full written report on his psychosis by the morning. The gist I got from him is how loyal he was to his queen and goddess. The King's silver eyes also mean something to him, which was why he was sent to kill her."

As she talked, he kept staring into the man's eyes. He didn't dare to push for the deeper thoughts, else warn their assassin. You didn't need to touch it to know the thing in front of you was as hard as a brick wall. His will was strong, if not warped, and Chase didn't have the skill to get through it.

Still, he learned more in this instance. He saw that flash again, something a little more detailed and something he could see a little more clearly as this was the second time. A womanly figure with bone-white skin and a black dress. Odd hair but different culture, so whatever.

As for the silver eyes… even Tyrian didn't know anything about that. He only knew it was a danger to his… queen.

"Did he say who this queen was?" Chase's eyes narrowed.

"No," Marla answered bluntly. "Most of our conversation was to get a gauge over his physicality. I've found what I wanted and would like to draft my report now."

"The Tenth is dismissed, thank you," Chase waved a hand at Marla. He saw her and the other Tuners gather their gear and shuffle out of the tent. It was only him, Isaac, and Tyrian left in the space. "Isaac, would you like to lead or shall I?"

Without looking away, Isaac swayed in his balance and tilted his head in thought. "I'd rather you, commander. Personally, I'd like to zap him again if he gets out of hand. Plus, pretty sure you'll kill him if you be the bad cop."

"...Fair enough," he grumbled. There was no good-cop/bad-cop routine with these things. He didn't _do _good cop. But he would be asking the questions and prying into this man's mind while Isaac weakened his fortitude.

By poking him with a really sharp stick.

Chase stepped up, leaning over close enough for the shine of his eyes to reflect off of the assassin's face. Tyrian was unafraid, more amused than anything. He continued to cackle, coughing into his gag once before laughing some more.

"Who is Salem?" Chase demanded in a cold voice.

Tyrian stopped laughing.

The white woman in black flashed through his mind again, this time more solid and clear than ever before. Chase could make out the finer details of this twisted, humanoid creature. _Salem. Queen of the Grimm._

Suspicion and confusion crossed through Tyrian next. His eyes flicked between Chase and Isaac's. Another person flashed through his mind. The image was more warped than vague. The person had a hundred faces and a hundred bodies but was, without a doubt, one person. A person with two names: _Ozma _and _Ozpin._ The former more prominent than the latter.

He thought they worked for this shapeshifting man. Chase didn't react.

His lack of a reaction forced Tyrian to come to his own conclusions. He reacted poorly. Anger consumed him to the point of frenzying. With inhuman strength did he break out of his bindings and snap the chair into pieces. He moved just as fast as an Acolyte reinforced with Aura and Chase would have been grappled if he hadn't sensed the shift in intent.

Isaac had also sensed it. When Chase moved out of the man's reach, Isaac rushed forward. He slammed his palm into Tyrian's side and sent a powerful jolt of electricity through the contact. Tyrian's body jerked against his will with electricity flowing through him. But a purplish layer of _something _covered his body like a second skin, absorbing the damage that would have killed a lesser man.

Isaac wouldn't give him a chance to recover. He already knew this man's limits from the first fight. He raised his other hand and sent tendrils of electricity between them. It was strong enough to light up the tent like a beacon and loud enough to crack the air. Some of it strayed towards Chase, who had to put a layer of Aura to shield himself.

Tyrian was blasted out of the tent, taking the full brunt of Isaac's retaliation. That purple coating shattered like glass and dissolved like mist. He lay sprawled on the sand, panting erratically with his body twitching. He was unconscious once more.

"See if we can find better bindings," Chase ordered. "Better yet, get Alec to bury him."

"You mean like a marooned pirate or like a mummy?" Isaac gave him a sideways glance while cracking his knuckles. Sparks surged out with each crack.

"So long as he can't move and can at least breath, I don't care. Mummy then. Shove him into a wooden crate with a breathing tube. Six— no, ten feet down."

"Sure, but pretty sure that'll kill him," Isaac flexed his hands next before flicking him in the air, getting the last bits of his own power out of his joints. "Sand's kinda heavy, you know?"

"Just bury him," Chase rolled his eyes. "Until we can spare time to build a holding cell, this is our best option. He's durable enough to survive."

"Yeah, no kidding," Isaac crossed his arms. "Hey, commander? Mind if I ask something?"

"What?"

"I saw what you did and some other stuff when Marla was talking to him before you arrived. I don't think Menagerie had anything to do with this."

"What's your question, Isaac?"

"Are you going to blame them for this anyways? Sienna seemed pretty innocent to me."

"I will be testing them, Isaac," Chase said with a firm voice. "We still don't know much about this place. There's a possibility someone in Menagerie informed our assassin about the King's presence. Even if there isn't, I need to see how they will react."

Isaac sighed, "Just… don't go overboard, I guess? I kinda like it here."

"That's not for you to decide, conductor," Chase returned coldly, reminding the Ninth Symphony of his position and rank. "Secure the prisoner and relay my orders to the Twelth. You may be relieved when I come for him before dawn."

"Aye commander," Isaac sighed but gave a salute.

He walked through the tear in the tent while Chase walked out through the actual entrance. While Isaac called out for other Researchers to help him, Chase marched through the camp. He used his pendant to relay messages to the other Orchestras and received updates on his previous orders. The camp was on complete lockdown, the attracted Grimm were neutralized, and the suggestion of a barrier was given (imposed, really) by the Eleventh Symphony. He agreed, if only to give the extremely bored Pinky something to do for once since arriving here.

The last thing he did for the night was visit the Tenth's area. The medical Orchestra had been busy since arriving, having to tend to every Researcher from the last skirmish against the Tactical Hunters, to the rough landing caused by the magical storm, to Grimm attacks, food poisoning, and countless other annoyances brought from the desert. Tonight was no different as they tended to a few wounded and saw to the recovery of the fallen.

He found Marla off to the side. Her tent was open with a lantern hanging over her head and another at the edge of her desk. She was busy writing that report on Tyrian and probably five other things that needed her attention as head of medicine. He didn't bother her.

Instead, he went into a marked tent. The guards saluted as he passed by. The tent was small, used for private examinations rather than emergency treatment. There was a single cot in the center with a body of a man lying on it. His Researcher coat hung on a rack on the corner, rightfully returned from Callows. The Tuner scribbling notes on her clipboard spun around and was about to say something sharp with the way her brows scrunched. She bit her lip instead when she saw him.

"Commander!" her expression washed away quickly as she saluted.

"At ease," he replied dully as he looked at the dead body. "I'm just making my rounds and will be out of your way soon enough. Tell me about him."

The Tuner, a woman who should be finishing her college years by her age if not for the war, smoothed her Researcher coat before standing straight and tall, if not stiffly. "James Earl Jones… yes, like the actor. He was a member of the Eighth and had the Air affinity. Cause of death was blood getting into his lungs by the laceration across his neck. They found him with his pants down beyond the waste trenches. He was caught by surprise while relieving himself."

He listened while walking to stand on the other side of the cot. "Did you know him?"

"It's a small group, sir, and I am part of the Tenth. I know everyone."

"Did you know him _personally_?" he pressed, a bit of annoyance slipping out of his tone.

She paused, caught off not by his tone but by his question. "Not… intimately. He asked me to dinner frequently, as some of the others do. Mostly the Ninth. To be frank, sir, I don't wish to get to know anyone beyond a professional standpoint."

They had started with a couple hundred units at the beginning of the war. Mistakes, arrogance, and sacrifices had dwindled their numbers down to less than a hundred. It was more than common to laugh with someone at one meal time and then for them to be gone at the next. Some formed powerful bonds with very few members, if at all, while the rest kept to themselves. She was no different.

"We will hold a ceremony once preparations are made," he informed. She arched a brow as it was rare to hold any service for any members. He gave a speech on occasion but that was due to their need to scatter and hide after such incursions. "He is the first to fall in foreign lands. We may be out of the war but we need to remind ourselves that we are not out of danger. Are you able to prepare the body?"

"We lack many resources, sir," she breathed out wearily. "The funeral will have to be held soon else the body will decompose. Especially because of the climate. Also… it will be impossible to preserve his eyes at the moment."

He frowned. This was the sole purpose of his visit. What a waste of time.

"I doubt we could just stick them in a jar with ice, can we?" he grumbled.

"That would buy us a couple of hours _at best_," she answered in all seriousness. "If you have any further questions, commander, you'll have to wait for my report. I'm still not done examining the body."

"Have it for me as soon as possible," he started to head towards the flap. "I want to know if there was anything irregular about his death. The Sixth are examining the murder weapons but Director Amber tells me the assailant can pierce through defenses. I want to know the specifics behind that."

"Understood, sir," she saluted once more.

He saluted back and stepped out. His brows fell into a deep line as some of his Aura leaked out of his skin. He was down one Researcher and couldn't preserve his power. He couldn't even take it for himself.

0-0-0

It hadn't been a full week when Ghira had been abruptly woken up before dawn a third time. There was urgent news from the wall and his presence was demanded. He growled at nothingness as he quickly dressed and hurried out the door. His wife, Kali, calmed him by drawing him back into a kiss and wishing him good luck.

Sienna had informed them of last night's incident and Ghira lost several hours of sleep anticipating the Researchers' retaliation, pacing around in his study without being able to get a message out to them. At least until Kali forced him to bed.

He was at the wall as soon as he could, less than an hour since the messenger arrived at his doorstep. The guards were at their stations but were not alarmed. Still, they watched over the horizon with a mild blend of both caution and boredom that came from focusing on a task for long hours.

Akela gave him a pair of binoculars. Ghira peered through and found Commander Rolan easily enough. He had made himself a table set out of ice and was seated on a frozen chair. His glowing eyes behind that Grimm mask met his and he raised a hand in greeting.

Behind him rampaged his Griffon, dragging something behind it as it ran across the sand in a cycle.

"Brothers above…" Ghira swore as he discovered the luggage to be a bound body. He couldn't tell if it was still alive but he could only hope. Why else would Rolan have his monster drag it around?

He hurried off the wall and towards the gates, Akela behind him and a troupe of guards. The gates were opened without his orders and he jogged towards the commander. Akela followed but gave orders for his guards to man the gates.

"Rolan!" Ghira barked out once he was within shouting range. "What is the meaning of this?!"

"Chieftain Belladonna," Chase's voice was rough and unamused. He spoke in a level tone with his voice amplified by his power to reach Ghira's ears. "Sit down and join me. I have coffee. There's something we need to discuss."

Three cups of ice appeared in front of him as he pulled a thermos from his coat. He began to fill them with steaming black liquid. Strangely, or perhaps because it was a part of his magic, the ice did not crack and the coffee continued to steam.

"What are you doing to that man?!" Ghira demanded once he reached the table. He towered over Chase, who had to lean back _and _crane his head to meet Ghira's eyes.

"Making sure he doesn't get up," Chase returned bluntly as he slid one of the cups towards Ghira.

"It's inhumane."

"I'd argue none of us are human."

"It's the principle of the matter and not the technicality," Ghira's voice rumbled with barely restrained anger. "I was under the impression someone of your position and history would understand the difference. Or was I mistaken?"

The two stared at another for a long moment.

There was no gesture made from Chase. The Griffon suddenly turned and started to charge at their table. Akela made a sound for alarm but Ghira ignored him. The sand picked up as the Griffon Grimm came to a halt meters before them. The body of the assassin bounced a few more times before rolling to a stop. Still without a command, the Griffon picked up the rope behind it and dragged the body towards the table and dropping it at their side.

The man's clothes were shredded and his skin peeled in several places. Most raw from being dragged against the sand while others pussing or dried up. Ghira noticed some burn marks as well. He was breathing at least.

"Does the name Tyrian Callows mean anything to you?" Chase asked as he eyed the tangled assassin's form.

"No, I can't say that I do," Ghira shook his head as he pulled back a chair and took a seat. It was cold, obviously, but did not burn him.

"He infiltrated our camp, killed one of my men, and went after our King," Chase leaned back in his chair and picked up his oddly shaped cup of coffee, still steaming despite its frozen container. "She had been in Menagerie since before our arrival and was suddenly targeted as soon as we announced her our King. Tell me this is coincidence, Ghira."

"I promise Menagerie had nothing to do with this," Ghira leaned forward and cupped his hands on the table. He never averted his eyes to get his point across.

"You don't strike me as the man to send an assassin," Chase made a grunt of acceptance in the back of his throat. "I've given you too many chances and the idea never even crossed your mind. But I do not accept your promise. There is more to Menagerie than just you."

"You can't mean someone within the village is behind this," Akela stepped up but remained behind Ghira and to the right like a bodyguard.

"I am assuming until proven otherwise," Chase returned without hesitation. Only then did he pause to take a drink. "Callows was no amateur. Someone like him would cost a lot. Prime suspects, then, being Menagerie's council members."

"I barely make enough to feed me and my kids," Akela argued.

"There's more than one way to pay than with just money in this line of work," Chase put his cup down and leaned one elbow on the table's edge. "Have your men look the other way when something happens. Hide evidence. Return a favor for another. Accuse someone of a false crime. There are a lot of things you can offer, head of security."

Akela was stunned, more shocked at the jab at his honor than the possibilities. He growled, baring his wolf fangs but stopped when Ghira raised a hand to ease him back.

"I can vouch for Akela," Ghira said in a firm voice. "He would sooner lose his life than his honor. I can also vouch for the other council members. Winnifred deems you unworthy of his attention and Roygaris would never risk losing his place in the village."

"Too much money invested," Chase grumbled as he tapped a few fingers across the frozen surface. "Then an unknown party who wants us to be at each other's throats."

Ghira leaned forward and spoke lowly, "Perhaps that enemy you mentioned before?"

Chase snorted, "I'd sooner believe they'd kill every Faunus for the simple fact of being anything but human. If not that, then they'd infiltrate personally and kill a large sum of my men before an alarm can be raised. There is… _one _thing we learned during our interrogation. Names. Does Salem, Ozma, and Ozpin mean anything to you?"

Ghira considered the names, "Only Ozpin comes to mind. I know of a man with that name. He's the headmaster of Beacon Academy in Vale. What of it?"

"...Only that Callows believed for a moment we worked for him," Chase answered after considering his response carefully. It wasn't missed on any of them. "I don't know what to make of it."

"Neither would I," Ghira admitted. "He runs an academy for huntsmen in another country. What of the other names?"

"The same with Ozma," Chase said as he studied Ghira's reactions intently. "But for Salem? Undying loyalty. Either she ordered this assassination attempt or his superior. A mentor or some kind of cultist leader if he belongs to one."

"If you know that then why would you accuse Menagerie of being behind this?" Ghira questioned, though he had a feeling he already knew the answer.

"To cover all bases and leave no stone unturned," Chase replied in a more simpler tone. "He could have still been hired by someone else while belonging to some kind of mercenary group. It's as much as a possibility as this Salem person ordering him personally."

Commander Rolan was simply paranoid.

"Then I will look further into this, if to prove Menagerie's innocence," Ghira assured.

"I appreciate it," Chase dipped his head in gratitude. He meant it too.

"Now leaves us with the question of Callows," Ghira sat up straight and crossed his arms. "What will you be doing with him?"

"I've extracted as much information from him as I can," Chase stood, making Ghira do the same. "You don't seem to recognize him which both proves your innocence in this, Ghira, as well as your ignorance. He's a liability if you can't tell me anything about him."

He approached the assassin— the groaning, barely conscious and breathing man— and pulled out a pistol from within his coat.

"Wait!" Ghira stepped around the table. "You mean to execute this man? He needs to be tried and sentenced for his crimes!"

"He has and is going to be sentenced," Chase lifted his firearm, if only to give Ghira a response out of respect. "He has killed one of _my _men and thus falls under our jurisdiction."

"Then give me time, Rolan," Ghira bartered. "We'll keep him in a holding cell with the guard until we can learn more from him. Who he works for and who hired him, if not both."

"And if I hand him off to you, then I am effectively handing him to the jurisdiction of your laws," Chase's eyes and tone fell flat. But he breathed out frustration as he looked back at Callows. He holstered his weapon. "We will hold him. You are welcome to send your men over to interrogate him and we will share our information. But I will tell you now, this man is too dangerous to be left in a cell. If he doesn't break out of it himself, I wouldn't doubt his benefactors would to keep their secrets. I will execute him when it comes to that."

"You mean—" Ghira began to correct but…

"No, _when_," Chase's voice was flat and final. He approached Callows, dragged him over towards the crouched Griffon, and threw his body over its back. He then mounted the beast before telling Ghira one last thing. "Until any sort of accord can be made, the Researcher Symphonies are not denizens of the Menagerie government. We will carry our own justice within our occupied territory. I hope, chieftain, we can come to an agreement soon."

"As do I, commander," Ghira sighed. "I will send my men soon and look into this personally."

"As will I," Akela assured.

Commander Rolan nodded to them both before kicking his heels onto the black beast. It rose, trotted around, and then took off running back to the Researcher camp.

"You know he knows more than he's sharing, right?" Akela spoke while they watched Chase return to the occupied space.

"In that regard, he is more of a child than he realizes," Ghira nodded in agreement. "I can't tell if it's out of inexperience or because I've grown accustomed to his way of thinking. Come Akela, we've work to do."

"What a fine mess," Akela breathed out. "And it ain't even noon."

0-0-0

While tensions remained high between the people of Menagerie and their neighbors, the next few days went by without incident. The Researchers had overhauled their security detail by changing rotation schedules and guards. They had also built small mounds to act as boundary lines around their camp. Strange symbols were carved into their sandstone surface that only made sense to the bubblegum pink Researcher.

Akela came and went with his select squad of interrogators, though the knowledge they could extract was limited with Callows having bitten off his tongue. The best they could do was share limited information with the Researchers in front of Callows to see how he would react. They only learned he tended to react strongly when the three names Commander Rolan offered were mentioned in his presence.

Sienna was sent in Ghira's stead while he had to deal with other matters. He was still chieftain and the village was his priority. He had duties that were just as important as making sure their neighbors didn't raze the village with Grimm or witchcraft.

After being checked by security and being escorted by a very annoyed Travis (whose skin was blistering and peeling at having to stand in the sun all day on guard duty), she was led to Commander Rolan's tent. And, just like with Ghira, he had other matters to deal with and forced her to wait.

"I thought the whole point of naming yourself Regina was to avoid being called King," she heard him breathe out with strained irritation.

"But it's still my understanding that, as your King, I have full authority to enact any order or change whatever I want. Isn't that right?" she heard a feminine voice. Slightly mature but still had a bounce in it.

Chase didn't give a vocal response. He must have made a gesture or something she couldn't hear.

"Then why can't I change my title from King to Queen?!" the woman slammed her hands against the wooden table he used as a desk.

"Because the title wasn't issued by the First Symphony," he answered patiently, if not barely. "It was given by all the other Symphonies, to which Luscious accepted and declared the K be capitalized in both proper and improper speak and record."

"So it's purely out of tradition," the woman grumbled sourly. "Because everyone else wanted him to be their King and he accepted the crown?"

"Coat. The regalia is the coat you're wearing now. Also, Strings was a woman and went along with being called King," he added, paused, then spoke again. "As I said before, I thought naming yourself Regina was a way around this."

"It was. Most people just call me 'Your Highness' but I get the occasional King thrown in there. It might be different for you people but it's a masculine term for me. I want to be called _Queen _Regina bless it all!"

"Oh yeah, because being called Queen _Queen _is so much better," sarcasm dripped down his voice.

"It's better than being called a man. I know I'm on the short side and not that… round. Fine. What do I have to do to get the title changed?"

"Get a unanimous vote from the other Symphonies. You might be stepping on some toes for changing something Luscious decreed, but that's your right as a King—"

"Queen!"

"And you might want to be careful around people like Monk, the Eighth Symphony."

"...Why's that?"

"He likes older women."

A pause. "And this man is an officer?"

"He hasn't done anything illegal. But he has a reputation among the ranks as being a flirt. I'm not telling you to distrust him. Just know what you're getting yourself into."

"I see. Thank you. Does this mean I get your vote?"

"I _could not _care less about this," he knocked on the table twice to add emphasis for his stance on the matter. "Get the other votes then I'll give you mine. Now, was that all you had to use your right as a King to hold back my schedule?"

"Queen—"

"Until you get those votes, you are still a _King_. Now answer the question."

"W-Well… I had to! You're always too busy otherwise!"

"I've told you I'd make time for you," he groaned tiredly.

"Yeah and the last time was at three in the morning! You might be used to the long hours but I can't stay up past nine. I've tried but my body just shuts down at the time. Not to mention all the other Orchestras keep putting me to work in the name of learning your order."

He drummed his fingers across the table. "In case you haven't noticed, we are all on high alert. We have been since arriving on this island and even more so since the breach in security. I do not have time for asinine concerns over gender adjectives. Unless it's drastically urgent, take a bullet. You'll live."

There was silence within the tent.

"I'm sorry," the woman's voice was small. She shuffled her feet against the carpet. "I didn't mean to say this was more important. It's just… I don't know what I'm doing or what I'm supposed to do. I don't even know who I am and I'm supposed to be your leader. I'm just trying to figure things out."

More silence.

"Once we've cemented our base of operations and become self-sustaining, we can divert resources into looking into your background. Until then, be patient. You're asking a group of starving people to stop looking for food."

"I…" a pause that lasted a handful of seconds. "I understand. I'm sorry for taking up so much of your time, commander. I will return to observing the Ninth Symphony."

"Stay here," Chase adjusted himself on his seat. "This next business has to do with you as well. Kha— _Fuck. _Sienna, you may enter. I know you can hear me."

She ignored the chorus of disappointed groans of the Researchers nearby who had been shamelessly eavesdropping on the commander's conversation. She threw back the flap of the tent and entered finally. His shabby little tent was just as unimpressive as the last couple of times she had been here. The only difference was the petite woman standing off to the side.

She was short, shorter than the commander but a decade older at most. Her hair was a dark red that was nearly black, skin milky pale, and eyes a shimmering silver that matched her unique Researcher coat perfectly.

So this was the infamous Researcher King. She had seen her before but didn't know who she was.

"Thank you for coming, Sienna," Chase stood and gestured to the woman within arm's reach. "This is Regina… last name to be determined, First Symphony and King of the Researcher Symphonies."

"Soon to be Queen," the woman, Regina, stepped forward and extended her hand. Sienna accepted it and they shook. The woman's hands were calloused, she noticed. "A pleasure to finally meet you. I've heard so much about you!"

"Really?" Sienna quirked a brow and glimpsed at Chase, who only shook his head. He didn't tell her anything, it seemed. "Like what?"

"Oh, well…" Regina pressed her fingers together and looked away in thought. "You're the liaison between the Researchers and Menagerie. And the only person who gets clearance, you know, being the commander's… lover… and all."

The female King looked further away as her cheeks flushed.

Sienna's eyes slid back over to Chase's, who stared back at her unfazed and dull. She snorted and raised a hand to her chin, palm facing the floor. "Sorry kid. You need to be this tall to ride this ride."

She saw his brow twitch. "Sienna, do you have something for me?"

The guy couldn't take a joke. He had to suck all the fun out faster than the desert dried up water. Her mood sobered up just as quickly.

"Both Ghira and Chief Greymane gave me a security detail about your assailant," she pulled out her scroll and placed it on the table. He took it and skimmed through the screen. "Tyrian Callows has a _very _long resume of crime and it's all there. Took both the Mistral and Atlas police force as well as a Mistralian huntsman to capture and detain him. He was supposed to be transported to Atlas but the transport was ambushed by a sudden Grimm attack. The craft was in pieces and not everyone's bodies were found. Callows was presumed dead… until now."

Chase barely glanced at the screen, scrolling it down three times before reaching the bottom of the details. He then handed the scroll over to Regina, who took it with both hands and read everything greedily. Her face slowly washed into one of disbelief and eventually horror as she kept reading.

"So we have a high-profile criminal that required two special task forces and a superhuman to suppress," Chase muttered. "_And _he managed to survive a Grimm attack while surviving a crash landing caused by said Grimm. Wonderful. How long ago was this?"

"If you had bothered to read what I just gave you, you'd know," Sienna gave him a look.

"Humor me."

"Two years ago," she did, only because it was a serious matter.

"So he's either been quiet up till now or we're the first to catch him in the act," Chase muttered more to himself than to them. "If the former, what made him come out of hiding?"

"And if it's the latter?" Regina looked up from the scroll.

"Either everyone else is a moron or we're just lucky. Or both. That's not the important part."

"The important part is you were his target," Sienna placed a hand on her hip and gave Regina a sharp gaze. "But we don't know why. Doesn't help that you claim to not remember a thing."

"But I don't," Regina insisted.

"Right," and Sienna didn't believe her. "Point is, you're important enough to risk exposure."

Regina fell silent and into herself, shrinking almost. She stared at her feet with her eyes searching for something. A trickle of fear escaped from her expression.

Chase had the grace and tenderness to flick a pen at her head. It snapped her out of it to give him a glare as ferocious as a wet kitten. She rubbed the spot as if it were going to bruise.

"Would Atlas or Mistral know more about him than what you've delivered?" he turned back to Sienna.

"Most definitely. What we got came from public records and news reports."

"Any way to get in contact with them?" Chase reached and picked the scroll out of Regina's hand. He waved it at Sienna. "You know, to tell them we have a criminal they thought was dead and can verify it? Maybe collect some bounty?"

"Not… from the island," Sienna frowned. "Menagerie doesn't have a CCT. We have short range relays for the fishing boats. But getting in touch with any of the other continents is… difficult."

Chase hummed as someone would put aside that information for later use. "Then we have two options. Either risk delivering him and, most likely, get ambushed by his friends. Or we just kill him now and be done with it."

"...Ghira was kinda hoping for the former," Sienna admitted without meeting his gaze. She ignored his snort of contempt. "If you need transport, Kongfree is offering to use one of his shipping vessels as a sign of good faith between your group and his. He… only asks for half the bounty to cover travel expenses."

"Jesus fucking Christ," he swore beneath his breath but didn't attempt to hide it. "You people were already anticipating this? Don't answer that."

He leaned back in his chair and rapped his knuckles across the tin cup filled with pens on his table. He didn't look at either of them as he thought to himself.

"Turn him in, and let me go with the escort," Regina said suddenly.

He stopped making noise to glare at the woman. His eyes flicked back over to Sienna. "Thank you, Sienna. I'll send Ghira my decision before the end of the day."

Sienna's brows rose as she stared at Chase. Yes, he was serious. He brushed his hands across the air to shoo her away.

"Gods you're impossible," she swore before swiping her scroll out of his other hand. "Fine! But a piece of advice, Chase? Ghira might not be so lenient if you kill Callows. He believes every soul is worth redemption, no matter how dark."

He gave her a flat look. "And what do you think?"

"Shoot the sicko," she answered without hesitation and without the need for thought. It was simply a reflex. "But if things were that way… I would have been dead long ago."

She left him with that to mull over.

0-0-0

"No," was the first thing he said when the tiger Faunus, Sienna, was long gone.

"Isn't it my choice?" Regina, who had difficulty identifying herself as this despite personally choosing the name, faced him with both hands on her hips.

"It is, but let me tell you why it is the dumbest idea since the Pet Rock," he crossed a leg to make himself comfortable. He counted with his fingers, "One, you are our sovereign leader. Meaning that if you die, or specifically killed in an ambush, the one who kills you gets to take your place. Two, you have none of your personal memories and only move based on muscle memory alone. You're working on a quarter to a half of your full potential, at best. Three, you are exactly what these people want. So going along on the escort, if I'm allowing it in the first place, is killing two birds with one stone."

She couldn't remain standing. She took a few steps backwards until her knees hit his cot. She plopped down with all the strength leaving her.

"But that's exactly why I need to go," she tried next, looking at him through her bangs. "I need to know why these people were after me. _Are _after me. Me staying here won't change anything for you either. If they came to finish the job, they'll keep coming. How many people need to die on both sides until they stop?"

"I'm thinking about Vlad the Impaler'ing the fuck out of Callows."

"I… don't know what that is but I'm sure I don't like it."

"I don't think you want to know," Chase said without looking at her. She could have sworn to have seen the smallest curve on his lips, a phantom of a smile. But it was gone before she could confirm. She hoped she imagined it. "Suppose we do ship him to the nearest depot, collect our bounty, and return from that little misadventure. Doesn't matter if we run into some of his friends on the way or not. Do you think it will make a difference if they bring the fight here or not?"

"You think it doesn't matter?"

"We became their enemy the moment we captured Callows. The only way to have avoided it was to let him kill you and let him walk away."

She gulped at that. "If you believe we're going to fight them anyways, why not in a way we can control it then? Use me as live bait. Draw them out! That way you'll at least know when they're coming and can be ready for it. Better than staying here and jumping at shadows all the time."

"If you were literally anyone else, I would have agreed to let you go and we wouldn't be having this argument. But," he raised three fingers again, "reasons One to Three. One," he closed the others and kept the index finger up, "being the most important."

She pretended to not notice how he was willing to easily use her as live bait if not for the crown. Coat. Whatever.

"...And what happens if they get to me here?" she challenged. He had no response to that. "You know as well as I do that no defense is absolute. If I didn't have to put others in danger, I would go by myself in a heartbeat. But I can't do this on my own. I am… yes, I am _trapped _here. This coat is nothing more than a straight-jacket I can't take off. I need your help, Chase. I will be whatever Queen or King or whatever you want me to be. But I need to know about the woman I was before all this. Please."

He was silently mulling over her words, one cheek resting against his fingers and elbow propped. His expression was that of stubbornness and annoyance. He knew she was right about something she said (she wasn't sure what part) but was unwilling to admit it.

"You will learn to regret those words," he said with dire promise.

The look he had and that tone… it was like she had just made a deal with a demon.

"All Symphonies, sign in," he said as he pulled out the pendant from beneath his collar. He waited and listened. He didn't have to wait long before speaking again. "I'm calling for an urgent meeting. Gather at the mess area. Signing out."

He tucked the pendant back under his shirt and stood. She couldn't see it glow but saw it twitch a few times under the fabrics. He was receiving all sorts of messages that went ignored.

"When do I get one of those?" she asked as he held the tent flap open for her, one of the few acts of a gentleman he would have for her. She wasn't sure if it was because she was King or because she was a woman. Or both.

"As soon as we can produce them again," he answered simply as he began walking. She knew where the food was so she was able to walk alongside him this time. "Communicating is vital. Until then, we're having you be with a Researcher at all times."

"How long until that happens?" she asked, partially for curiosity and also to make smalltalk while they made their way to the heart of the camp.

As they walked, Researchers would stop what they were doing and salute at their passing. She wanted to salute back or do something but Chase didn't. He nodded at them in acknowledgment if he could spare the attention, like now. It didn't seem improper as the Researchers would return to their business as soon as they passed by. Still, Regina made it a habit to at least wave at them.

"If we make this our permanent residency, around a year," Chase replied dryly. "We have other priorities and don't have the tools we had before to start working on anything. We need to regain a lot of what we lost first. And before that, our survival takes precedence."

Around a year to make the communication crystals. That was also including their ability to make things quickly with their magic— _affinities_, as she had been corrected time and again. Apparently only the Eleventh dealt with magic. Anyways, the Researchers were able to piece wood back into full logs and planks from sawdust and splinters. They were building huts out of sandstone, terraforming the land to build farms, and were in the midst of building a water tower out of scrap metal. Oh, also a purifier and pipes for the ocean water.

Chase wasn't much for idle conversation as he fell silent after his last comment. She tried to engage in some more but he either hummed to acknowledge her words or gave very blunt and convo-stopping comments.

She instead had to make do with the Researcher officers that trickled in. The Eleventh, Rose li Red, also referred to as Pinky for her vibrant pink hair, had arrived in the mess area before them. The teenage girl was the only one of her entire Orchestra (if it could be called that in the first place) and had next to nothing to do since Regina had known her. She also called Chase 'Master' for a reason both Pinky and Chase tended to skirt around.

At least she loved to talk. Even if Regina couldn't understand a word as all the girl talked about was her magical research. The latest topic being about the detection charms she placed all around the camp.

It took half an hour at most for the Researcher Symphonies to completely gather. Some trickled in without complaint while others had been annoyed at having been dragged away from their duties. Marla and the Sixth Symphony, Albert Gener, having brought paperwork and files to review at the discussion table.

Two tables were pushed together while everyone sat according to their rank. Regina didn't notice at first as they all took seats naturally. It was only because she played a memory game to recall everyone's name and rank did she notice it.

She and Chase stood at the head of the table; she more off to the side while he placed both hands on the surface.

"Thank you for coming under short notice," Chase spoke subtly while making eye contact with all of his subordinates. Even Alice, who brought another book along to read at the table, glanced at him briefly. "I know some of you are busy so I'll make this quick. The assailant from the other night has a reputation in the kingdoms of Atlas and Mantle. He was on the top of the bingo book with over 120 counts of murder, kidnapping, and extortion under his belt. He was captured and was in transit to Atlas when his transport was attacked by Grimm. He was presumed dead. Isaac."

The Ninth Symphony put down his raised hand and asked, "Commander. Do you believe this has anything to do with this Salem person?"

"We will assume it does until proven otherwise," Chase spoke like a commander should. All his sarcasm and immaturity was gone. "She calls herself the Queen of the Grimm. Considering we can control the Grimm to a certain extent, it is safe to assume that at least one other person on the planet has figured it out before us. It could have been a random Grimm attack. It could have been this Salem person wanting his services. We will assume the latter for the time being."

"Does Chieftain Belladonna know anything about this?" Regina asked once he was done speaking.

She wasn't sure what to think when heads that had only been listening suddenly looked up. Alice stopped reading, Marla stopped flipping through profiles, and Albert stopped writing calculations. All of the Symphonies had her attention. Rather, they were watching what Chase would do.

She suddenly realized she had openly questioned his authority. Yes, she outranked him. But he still had seniority, had built a reputation, and knew more about the order than she did.

"No and I have no intention of telling him until I know I can trust him with this information," Chase answered without facing her. His eyes scanned across the tables and at his subordinates. "The fact we can control the Grimm terrifies him. It was only because we openly showed a choice in not using them were we able to open discussions with him. Imagine how he would react when he learns a similar person is backing a mass-murdering psychopath."

_She _was terrified by the fact they could control the Grimm. And she was supposed to be on their side! So, yes, she could understand his reasoning when wanting to withhold that kind of information.

"Moving on," Chase put extra firmness in his voice to get back on track. "The King is suggesting we escort Callows to one of the two authorities. Preferably Mistral as their capital isn't on the opposite side of the planet."

She didn't say that but kept her mouth shut this time.

"In doing so will more than likely have Salem or another associate of Callows attack," he went on. "If not to rescue him then to silence him from giving away too much information. It was also the King's suggestion to go along on the escort to lure out her pursuers."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" the Eighth Symphony, a robust young man named Monk Anthony, put up his hand and didn't wait to be called for. "You want to use the King as bait, boss? I mean, since it's a suggestion doesn't mean I'm questioning you or anything. I'm only saying this is a bad idea. She's not Strings or even Master Melodic. The King is… a normie."

"I can defend myself, thank you," Regina protested by showing her hands at the table. They were heavily calloused. And her training bouts with the Ninth and Seventh Orchestras could verify her proficiency with swords and staves. She also had a huntsman's aura, like Callows had.

"With all due respect, Your Highness," Albert put his pencil down to give his full attention. "But by your own account, you died in the first encounter. That's assuming you were better prepared and knew what to expect."

"Your combat style is based purely on reflex and muscle memory," the Seventh, Travis, added his own commentary. "You have the same natural defense as Callows, but those two things will only get you so far. You lack the experience you once had before Strings found you."

"Enough!" Chase, of all people, came to her defense. "She's not a helpless mundane. She is capable of defending herself at the least. However, should I approve of this mission, I am placing her under the security of the Seventh Orchestra. Jeremy, I am also placing you as backup with Albert going along as your support."

"Aw…" she heard the Ninth, Isaac, groan with clear disappointment.

"You mean _if _you approve, right?" the Fifth, Jeremy raised a hand.

"I'll be clear to you all," Chase addressed the table again. "We're squatters. We have no income and are feeding off of the mercies of Menagerie. There is also the irrefutable fact we've gained the wrong kind of attention by taking in the King and subduing Callows. It's only a matter of time before his benefactor comes for us. If we go with Operation Honeypot, we kill five birds with one stone."

He had a name for it already.

Also, Regina tried to figure out how he got five benefits of this. She could tell others were trying as well. The only one who seemed to understand was Alice. That, or she didn't care. It was hard to tell from a girl who looked up from her book briefly, shrugged, and then went back to reading.

"One," Chase counted fingers, starting with his thumb, "we deliver Callows and collect a bounty. Two, we learn about the potential threat level behind this _Queen of the Grimm_. Three, we potentially learn why they're after the King. Four, we have an excuse to send scouts to examine the world outside Menagerie. And five, we appease Belladonna's bleeding heart and make things easier for discussion property rights."

"You missed one," Alice spoke up. "There is a possibility someone will have a record of the King archived in some kind of database. We can learn about her former identity."

"Six," Chase counted with his other thumb. "Thank you, Alice. This is why you're the vice-commander."

Alice beamed a smile before going back to her book.

Regina was left speechless. She hadn't even considered that possibility. Nor had Chase, given his response. Yes! She had to have some form of identification somewhere. If she could learn so much as her name, it would tell her _so much_. It could open new doors for her!

She could also throw away this atrocious name. _Regina_. She was regretting it. It wasn't even a color. She should have stuck with Rose despite Chase's complaints. Gods, she would have picked _Summer _over her current name she was starting to loath.

"It sounds like you've already come to a decision, commander," the Twelfth, Alec, a teenage boy who would rather be anywhere else no matter where he was sent, yawned as he spoke.

"Alternatively," Chase stood up straight and crossed his arms, "we could _not _do any of this and bunker down here. They will have to come to us eventually and we'll have our full force. They also won't be able to use the Grimm against us while—"

"No!" Regina stepped into his space and slammed a hand onto the table. "We are not going to stand around and do nothing! We are going on this escort mission, we are going to learn about this Grimm Queen, and I am going to learn about who I am!"

The entire table was silent. She felt the gaze of everyone, including the unranked Researchers who were either watching a discussion between their leaders or happened to be passing by. She _felt _Chase's gaze even when she was staring right into it. It felt like staring into an inverse sun— something that was demanding she look away and felt so cold it left her shivering.

She didn't falter as she matched his gaze. Not with intensity but with determination. "Don't give me hope and then take it away as if it's nothing. It may be nothing to you but it is everything to me. I am trying my best with you people! I don't fully understand my place in your order. But I understand something clearly. I am making this an order as your King."

The coldness in Chase's eyes didn't go away. He leaned over until she could feel his breath on her skin. It left frost on her skin. "Are you ordering us to die for you, Your Majesty?"

Yes, she realized. He had warned her. He had told her the potential threat on this escort mission. She heard from Sienna how Grimm had attacked an Atlesian security transport and was likely being controlled by this Salem person according to Chase. There was a very likely chance it would happen on their way to Mistral.

She was asking these people, these strangers she hardly knew, to put their life on the line to _maybe _learn something about her. No, she was demanding it.

"I…" her throat felt dry.

Chase looked unimpressed as he stood straight and faced the table. "Well. The King's suggestion has just become an order. Travis, Albert, Jeremy, prepare your things for a long journey. File any necessities to the Eighth. I will brief you as soon as I have clarification. Alice, send a missive to Menagerie's guards. I want to talk to Kongfree over the specifics of using his transportation services."

And just like that, he was pretending their little power struggle never happened. Had it been a test? If it was… she knew she had failed. What was the right answer? To confirm that she was willing to sacrifice these people?

"Oh, one more notion," Chase put up a hand as everyone began to stand. Half of them groaned as they all sat back down. "The King wishes to change the title to the female oriented version. Show of hands for those in favor of addressing her as Queen henceforth."

Only three hands were raised. Alec (who only raised a few fingers off the table's surface), Pinky (who gave everyone questioning looks on why they weren't raising their hands), and Alice (who more than likely just didn't care). The rest… had either conflicted expressions or were outright disapproving of the notion.

"What…" Regina pressed herself against the table. "What's wrong with being called Queen? It should be natural to call a female monarch that!"

"Because that would mean acknowledging you _as _said monarch," Marla met her gaze and gave her a condescending smirk. "Let's be honest, honey. I don't like you. I sympathize with your condition and circumstance but that's it. I see no reason to follow your orders other than the fact I legally have to. So if I have a choice to deny you something, I'm going to take it. By your leave, your grace."

Marla stood, curtsied without breaking her gaze or her smile, and then walked off with her files tucked under her arms.

The rest of the table was silent, sharing gazes at each other. No one else was willing to share their reasons. Regina didn't have the heart to ask either. She was afraid they were all like Marla.

"If there's nothing else to be said…" Chase paused to gaze around the table. Some stayed still and waited for his queue while others shook their heads. "Then you are dismissed. Return to your duties."

The Symphonies scattered, going their own way or pairing up to discuss what unfolded in the meeting. She saw Pinky rush over to Chase and give him a few hushed but pleading words. She couldn't hear what was being said or what Chase's blunt retort was.

Regina sat on the table bench's corner. Exhaustion hit her.

These were the people the woman who saved her life had said would help her. They were only doing it because of the coat around her shoulders.

She let out a single laugh. Chase had openly said it hardly an hour ago in his own tent to her face— the only reason he was against using her as live bait in the first place was because of the coat. And now she was reflecting on his behavior towards her. Did he really try to make time with her…? Of course not. How stupid was she? What psychotic workaholic would make three in the morning a suitable appointment time?

She didn't know how long she sat there for as she reflected the entire Researcher Symphonies order and how they treated her. From the officers to the unranked.


	5. Chapter 5

**A quick note:**

In regards to the previous chapter, specifically it being the fourth chapter, a certain fat monster is not present in this story. I don't plan on him being here as he would be busy doing something else in this strange fanfiction chronology of mine. Don't think too much on that. Just know he's too busy to fuck up Chase's life.

In regards to Sum- Regina, for the most part she is closer to an OC due to her lack of detail in the series. But I'm primarily basing her off of a certain red character. Why? Wait... Seriously? Why, you ask? Um... If you haven't figured out who she is by now then I'll leave it as a mystery for now. Other than that, I have no answer to the question other than to just have a base for her personality.

Last, I had a lot of fun this chapter. And it's leading me to have even more fun in future chapters.

On with the show!

* * *

"Any questions?" Chase asked once the briefing was done. As expected, hands shot up. But his eyes went straight for the fourth hand. "Pinky, why are you here?"

He knew it was a question that should have been asked before the details were given. They all knew as well. Yet no one bothered to point it out.

"Because I am requesting permission to include myself on this adventure, Master," the Eleventh Symphony answered in a formal tone. "After hearing the briefing, I believe my field of expertise would benefit your secondary directive."

"Regarding the exploration?" he put his hands behind his back. "What is your reasoning, Hand li Red?"

"For the most part, the team you are sending prioritizes combat efficiency," she began in an intellectual tone reserved only for matters like this. Her head did not bob around as it usually would. "With the exception of Captain Gener, who specializes in observational sciences… that is, as you would call them, _physical _sciences, the team lacks a specialist for both regional and cultural observations. As you know, I have been educated in the local etiquette of my land as well as foreign etiquette. Being summoned by you has taught me how to adapt to new environments. We need eyes on the ground, so to speak. With Director Amber needed here, I am the best alternative."

He wondered how long she practiced this, especially to keep her head from bobbing around and her excitement from rising. He knew she had been bored here and knew the guilt from being bored was eating at her. He dismissed the curiosity as quickly as it came.

"Very well then," he nodded, though he decided to include her as soon as she appeared in the tent. "Permission granted. On that note you also bring something to my attention. I will assign two Tuners to your unit, Travis."

"Then I have no further questions," Travis crossed his arms and looked content with the situation.

"Al," Chase looked at the Sixth next.

"Sir," Albert dipped his head in response. "I understand the need to bring Jeremy along. But I'd like to voice my concern over bringing the Siegfried suit. It is stable enough for short-distance flight but we've not tested it fully for combat. The local Grimm are not suitable enough for the stress tests. There might still be damage from the last skirmish as well as from our landing. We can't run full tests until we have the proper equipment."

"From what you can examine for now, how effective is the armor?"

"I'd say it's running anywhere between thirty to fifty percent efficiency. Thirty if it's suffered internal damages we can't find and fifty since its support system is already damaged. Either way, Jeremy will be powering it on his own."

Jeremy's lips curled downward. Chase sympathized with him. It was like powering a generator with a stationary bike.

"We will be assuming it is only operational at bare minimum levels," Chase said eventually. "We're also going to be treating this as a field test, which is why I'm sending you with him. We need to send a message."

Jeremy opened his mouth but quickly closed it.

"Which brings us to your concern, Jeremy," Chase's eyes slid over to the Fifth Symphony.

"Two, actually," Jeremy grimaced. "The first shares Albert's concerns. I am capable of fighting off Grimm without the suit. But you want me to use it regardless if most of its functionality is offline. Why?"

He pretended it was curiosity and not a question of command. "I'm going to assume Callows will escape custody once we hand him over. Either through his own means, the incompetence of Mistral's officials, or the _Queen of the Grimm_, or all of the above. Regardless, I want him to send a message to his lord and master."

"That we're not to be tried with?" Travis suggested.

"To fuck off," Chase spat back. "You have full permission to use your aura techniques, your affinities, and what else you have at your disposal. That includes your Crests."

Eyes widened in various margins.

"Commander, if I may?" Pinky spoke up while everyone else mulled over his words. He nodded at her and she folded her hands at her front. "I cannot help but think we can't be the only ones to have crossed over. Displaying such powers would alert our presence to more than just the locals. There is a likely chance there could be Acolytes of other factions… as well as the Tactical Hunters."

"We are not in any condition to fight them… sir," Jeremy spoke quickly.

He had already considered this. His paranoia wouldn't let him otherwise. He had also taken other variables into consideration.

"My permissions also include the controlling of Grimm," he replied back. "I want this queen to know she is not so special. And for any other threat to us to realize we have another means of fighting back. Even if it is a front, it'll buy us enough time to regain some of our strength.

"Travis, you will be the leader of this mission as it is your Orchestra. I will leave you to decide when best to use the Grimm and Crests to you. Jeremy, Al, you will follow his lead and provide support. Should anything happen, Jeremy will assume command. Pinky, you will be the liaison where it is needed."

"Sir!" they all said and gave a Researcher's salute.

"Commander, I still have one more concern," Jeremy said. Chase gestured for him to continue and Jeremy's face soured with distaste. "You want us… to withhold information from the king?"

"I do and you have your orders," Chase said without a blink. "She holds no loyalty to us or any of our beliefs. Tell me something, Jeremy. What would you do if you suddenly found out your mother was still alive?"

Jeremy's silence told everything.

"I don't want her to run off," Chase continued, dispassionate and unsympathetic to their king's situation. "I don't personally care for her. But she is still our king and we are obligated by tradition, law, and," he sneered, "_compulsion_ to follow her wherever she goes. So if she is a huntress of a kingdom and goes home, we become bound to her and her ideals. Slaves to that kingdom. I want you to make sure this never happens. Are we clear?"

Jeremy was hesitant but he eventually nodded. The others did; Travis and Albert without a second thought and Pinky had the most reluctance.

"Good. Anything else? Then you are dismissed. Departure is at 0600 tomorrow."

0-0-0

The salty air whipped around Regina's face like a piece of fabric, blowing her hair behind her and rubbing her bangs across her eyes. She leaned against the railings of the cargo ship as she watched the island of Menagerie gradually grow smaller and smaller. Seagulls flew over her head, angry that their swim had been disturbed by the ship's passing and probably more so by having to scare away their feed.

It didn't take very long to set this all up. Chase was right (as she was quickly finding out he was at a surprising and alarming amount) that Menagerie had prepared in advance. Roygaris Kongfree had offered an already scheduled shipment to ferry them to the continent of Anima. From there, an escort would meet with them and drive all the way up north to the city of Argus, stopping once or twice for rest and supplies.

They were basically paying the Faunus to bodyguard his men and cargo during the entire trip. Something Chase had pointed out but didn't contest. She knew he was up to something and only the opportunity to learn about herself stopped her from saying anything.

The ship itself was larger than most of the boats she's seen in Menagerie's docks. It was a reefer (something the crewmen told her) that was used to preserve the exotic fish high in demand in Mistral and big enough to carry several dozen metal crates of goods. Most of the cargo was tucked underneath with some of the less perishables stacked on top. There was still more than enough room for the dozen crewmembers and another dozen Researchers to roam around.

It should also be mentioned Tyrian Callows was holed up in one of the free refrigerators. None of the Researchers commented whether the container was turned on or not.

She leaned against the railings even after Menagerie disappeared over the horizon. There was nothing but a world of blueish-green as the hour went by. No one disturbed her.

Eventually she grew bored and went to go look for someone to bother.

The Researchers who came along mostly consisted of the Seventh Orchestra. They considered themselves the special forces of the Researcher Symphonies, used to hit their enemies hard and fast when the shock troopers of the Ninth weren't enough. There were only six of them, including their maestro, Travis Rose. The other three members were still recovering from Grimm pox.

They were all no-nonsense people. That, or they were avoiding her like the plague, always claiming they were on security duty and didn't have time to make idle chatter with her. She couldn't call them out on it as they didn't talk among themselves… or see them doing it if they did.

She kept walking.

The others who came along were two members of the Tenth Orchestra, the medical division of the Researchers. One boy and one girl who were at the edge of entering adulthood. And they were… rather touchy-feely. _Really _hands on but never reaching anywhere inappropriate. Even then, a simple hand on the shoulder felt like she was being molested.

She avoided them, making a hard left as soon as she saw them and pretending she didn't.

Then, there were the other Symphonies. The Eleventh Symphony, Rose "Pinky" li Red; the Sixth Symphony, Albert Gener; and the Fifth Symphony, Jeremy vi Ultimo. Regina hadn't gotten the chance to really get to know them. She knew of their positions and what their Orchestras dedicated themselves to.

She found the three sitting at a table of the cabin's dining area. It was a small space that could fit up to ten people (which was most of the actual crew) that they were occupying this early in the morning. Jeremy and Albert were playing a card game while Pinky was watching their every move and jotting down notes.

"Got a seven?" asked Albert, dryly, clearly bored.

_Scribble, scribble, scribble_.

"Go fish," Jeremy returned just as blandly. Albert drew from the pile. "Got any twos?"

_Scratch, scratch, scratch_.

"Yeah, here," Albert placed a two of diamonds on the table and slid it forward. Jeremy took it and placed a two of spades over it and put it on the corner. "Got any threes?"

Pinky stopped writing as she stared at the table fiercely.

Jeremy handed the requested card over. Pinky scowled with disappointment and frustration but scratched furiously in her weathered, leatherbound book.

"What are you guys doing?" Regina asked as she stepped further into the room.

"Tempting fate," Pinky answered as she finished the last line of her notes before shutting the book. It was a rather thick book that Regina swore the girl didn't have when boarding the ship. "You see, whenever one of us plays a card game, specifically Go Fish, under the right circumstances do the worst possible events happen around us. Such as an enemy ambush, a random explosion without any prior warnings, to a messenger telling us of a tragedy that happened on the other side of the planet. I'm trying to find the cause of this and see if I can replicate it with my magic."

The more Pinky talked, the more her head would bobble around. First from left to right, then up and down, and then in every direction. Regina found herself bobbing around, if only to keep eye contact with the excited girl.

"So she says but I chalk that up as coincidence. Jeremy?" Albert shared a glance with his superior, who shook his head. He went back to Regina. "We're just passing time until we change shifts with the Seventh. I'd rather play some poker but Pinky insisted on this. Care to suffer with us?"

"Should we be sitting around like this?" she asked instead. "Don't we have a dangerous fugitive who serves someone who can control the Grimm in our captivity?"

"I know, which is why we should keep playing and summon her wrath," Pinky insisted, bobbing her head around while preparing her pen and book to write.

Everyone ignored her.

"Travis has his men walking on patrol," Jeremy placed his cards down face-up (causing Pinky to throw her arms up). "We rotate shifts in three hours. This ship also has radars for detecting Grimm and other ships. Plus, if we're not squatting here, we'd be freezing with the prisoner down below."

"Wait. You really did put him in the fridge?!"

"If you have a problem, take it up with Travis," Jeremy sighed. "He's the one in charge."

"Aren't you higher in rank?" she blinked.

"I am," Jeremy nodded simply as he propped his elbows on the table and rested his chin on his knuckles. "And the order of command came from the commander himself. So… commander's orders take top priority."

"Then…" she tapped a finger on her chin. "By that logic, I could overrule him and put you back in charge?"

"You… could," Jeremy said slowly as he gave her a cautious look. "You _are _the First Symphony. But why would you?"

"Commander Rolan put Travis in charge because his Orchestra makes up most of the team," Albert interjected. "Jeremy and I are only here to support his unit. Pinky is here to observe the cultural side of things while we travel across the continent."

"I wasn't questioning his command," Regina put up her hands. "I was only curious about how this all works. I'm still learning what it means to be your king. That's all. I'll go along with whatever you guys are doing."

Both boys nodded back and fell silent.

"Then… as you were," Regina cleared her throat and tried to be as authoritative as she could be. She may have emulated Chase a little too much in her tone and posture. "I'm going to find the Sixth and see about the captive."

"Seventh," Albert corrected. "I'm the Sixth."

"R-Right. Sorry."

"You'll figure it out."

"Thank you," she said through a heated face as she stepped out of the room and powerwalked (not flee!) out of the cabin. She passed by a few crewmembers coming out of the navigation room, the female Tenth member flirting with another crewmember in the hallway, and a Seventh walking with purpose up and down the metal stairs.

It wasn't difficult to find Travis. All she had to do was spot the Researcher with six different swords. He was at the… bow? Stern? Nose? The front. He was on the front of the ship, going through various sword stances while dueling an invisible enemy. He went through the motions slowly, using a straight sword to either strike or defend against an imaginary foe.

He saw her approach and he stood straight, sheathing the blade with a fluid motion that only came from a lifetime of practice. "Your Majesty."

"Seventh Symphony," she greeted in a firm voice, holding back a victorious grin for getting something right for once. It must have slipped as he quirked a brow. She cleared her throat to force her pride back down. "It's been brought to my attention that our captive is being held within one of the refrigerators of this craft. Is this true?"

"It is," he answered, unfazed by the question. "Callows is currently bound and sealed within one of the containers the captain of this ship provided for us. It is not turned on and the door will be opened hourly to grant him fresh air. Having that said, it is still rather cold. It's not a danger to his life but it will be a very uncomfortable ride."

"And none of you thought this was inhumane?" she asked with a gaping mouth.

"There are only three humans on this ship, including you, Your Majesty," he replied without a single blink. "Tyrian Callows is not one of them."

She didn't believe for a moment the Researchers weren't human, no matter how much they claimed otherwise. So what if their eyes glowed and they had magic powers? There wasn't anything physically different about them, like the Faunus and their clear animal traits. And if they were a completely different species than human, they should have a better name than _Acolyte_.

"I'm saying we should not be treating Callows this way," she shook her head. "Hasn't he suffered enough? I've seen what he looks like after his interrogation. I'm not saying we should give him the royal treatment. But… aren't we better than this? We're treating him like…"

"Like the mass-murdering psychopath that he is?" Travis' tone fell flat. "With all due respect, ma'am, he's not someone we would normally keep alive. The commander wanted to cut off all his limbs and deliver him as a nub. I wanted to shave his skin. We all had colorful suggestions on how to send him back to Mistral. Him sitting in a kicked over chair in a freezer _is _royal treatment to us."

Oh. He wasn't hogtied this time. They at least had the decency to give him a chair… that Travis had no shame in admitting to have kicked over. She imagined Callows lying on his back, staring at the ceiling with his hands crushed under him.

"What is wrong with you people?" she nearly gasped in shock.

For a moment, Travis' discipline nearly crumbled. His lips thinned and he rolled his shoulders to regain his straight stance. "It may be difficult to understand, but we're treating him this way as a precaution. This isn't the first time we've come across someone like him. Not just in personality but in power and skill. He will escape if given the smallest chance. And he will come after you again. If not when he breaks from his bindings, then in a future we cannot predict. We are doing this to protect you, Your Majesty."

"And your personal distaste for his character has nothing to do with his current condition?" she questioned back.

"Help me understand, Lady First Symphony," he put a hand on his hip, thumb inside the belt for his coat, and began to walk towards the railing of the ship. She watched him. "You've been made aware of this man's credentials. He tried to kill you for reasons he bit off his tongue to keep. You know this… _thing _is more monster than man. Why do you care about his well-being?"

"Because it just feels wrong," she told him. He turned around and gave her an honest, puzzled look. She pressed on, putting a hand over her chest. "I know he's terrible. He deserves the worst punishment of the law. But that's the thing. The _law _should decide his fate. We are to hand him over to the proper authorities rather than to take justice for ourselves. We're not recognized by any of the kingdoms, not even Menagerie. We have no right to administer justice to someone who is wanted in another kingdom."

She saw him want to roll his eyes. He almost did it too. He forced the urge down. He turned fully to regard her, standing straight and keeping a short distance from the railing. "So you're saying it'll be fine if Mistral does this, or worse, because they have the law?"

"I'm also saying it's a matter of ethics," she stepped forward. "We are not barbarians. We should have standards on how we treat others, be they guests or criminals. If we cannot treat our detained humanely— and I mean by the literal definition of the word!— then how do we expect the rest of the world to not treat us the same?"

She was expecting a lot of things from Travis. Silence, shock, awe, some witty retort, maybe even a mature response. She even expected agreement, however small that one was.

She did not expect him to throw his head back, cover a hand over his brow, and let out a riotous round of laughter. It wasn't even in mockery. It was genuine. He laughed so hard he stumbled back and hit against the railing. He gripped the edge to keep himself upright.

She was the one left stunned silent.

"Y-You…" Travis forced his laughter down, albeit with a few giggles escaping. He pointed at her. "You don't know anything about us, do you? Did _nobody _tell you about where we came from? Who we've been fighting?"

"...No," she answered honestly, watching him carefully. "I only know you're not from Menagerie or Vacuo. I had assumed Atlas from your uniforms. Or… Vale?"

His laughter died but he kept smiling, if not in his own twisted form of human than in bitterness. He stood straight and reproached her slowly. "I've no idea how to answer in a way for you to believe us. No one does. Just know we're not from any of the kingdoms. And we've been fighting against extinction for… almost five years now.

"There used to be more of us. Nearly a thousand Researchers. Ten thousand for the entire species. The Observers probably have a couple hundred scattered across the globe. But us? Less than a hundred.

"To those who hunted us, we aren't human. We're not a sentient being. Dogs have more rights than us. You know what? We are the Grimm. We are the monsters that parents tell their children about. We are to be killed on sight. We are to be ripped open and examined to see what makes us tick. Our limbs cut off, our skin shaven, our eyes ripped out. We are _things_."

He stepped up, leaned over, and rolled back his sleeve. On his wrist was a silver chain with a hammer and anvil charm. It was pretty, cute even. Something a teenage girl would have worn rather than a… mercenary like Travis. But that wasn't what he was trying to show her.

On the forearm was a serial number with a barcode tattooed on the skin.

Her eyes slowly made their way up his arm, towards his chest, and eventually met his eyes. His eyes were not glowing but she felt his gaze pierce through hers. A cold fury blazed through those steel gray eyes. She knew he was not angry at her. But he was _angry_.

She took a step back, suddenly reflecting on more things. Why Callows _not _having his skin shaved off was considered royal treatment. Why Travis laughed at her plea for human decency. _He _wasn't treated humanely. He was a thing to the people who branded him. And based on his choice of words, he wasn't the only one among the Researchers, if not all of them.

She suddenly felt sick. She turned away from him and headed for the railing. It felt like she couldn't breathe. Gripping the railing and staring off into the ocean did nothing to quell her sickness. If anything, it was making her nauseous. She ended up clenching her eyes shut and squatting down, her hands still on the railing to keep her balance.

She heard Travis' footsteps. A few clicks came from the many buckles holstering his swords. Like a pack, he shrugged off the many straps in one motion and laid them down on the deck. He sat beside her with his legs tucked under.

She saw his hand reach out for her, hesitate, and then draw back. She wasn't sure what to make of it.

"Who would do this to you?" she asked, her voice weak.

"People who don't see us as people," he answered in a quiet voice. "People who feared us for our abilities and had the power to do something about it. People who had the power to sway the public into believing we were monsters in disguise."

She heard him give a long sigh. A very tired sigh. A very defeated sigh.

She released her grip on the railing and let herself fall onto her knees. She sat with her legs tucked under her, just like him, and had her hands fall to her lap. "Then you're no better than those people. You can't give in to despair like that, Travis. You can't treat others like those people would have."

He gave a single bitter laugh, "I had hoped you would understand, Your Majesty. We've gone past the line of… _ethics_. Until the world proves otherwise, we will be treating everyone the same we had before."

"Do you also believe yourself to be a monster?" she asked, turning her head to meet his eyes.

She remembered talking to Chase. He said the Researchers were heroes that were being persecuted by the people they were supposed to protect. But he, himself, was the monster that ate the people, who would one day be defeated by the heroes. He wholly believed it too. Travis' words weren't that different.

"I am me," he said after a moment. His eyes met hers. "I am Travis Rose, Seventh Symphony and former apprentice to the Man of Silver. I know who I am. But if my enemies think I am a monster, so be it. Be I man or monster, I'll cut them down if they pose a threat to me and mine."

A part of her was relieved to know he didn't think as lowly of himself as Chase did. But another part of her was disappointed to know he didn't care about human decency. He willingly let Callows suffer down below and declared it a necessary precaution. He neither glorified or condemned the action. He was impassive to it, at best.

He stood and began to reattach the harness containing his blades. It was a practiced motion that had him fully armed in a few seconds. He took a few steps away from her but remained within her presence.

She stood and faced him. "You're right."

He raised a brow at her and waited for her to continue.

"You're right," she repeated, more to herself than to him. "I don't understand where you're coming from. I probably never will. I have no right to force my own beliefs on your order. But I believe a compromise should still be made. I cannot turn a blind eye to the way you treat Callows. And I know how bad of a person he is! I know! I read his bio! I cannot tolerate an act of evil in the name of good.

"Wounds will never heal if you lash at the nearest person. You will never be able to trust anyone outside of your order if you act like this. What happens when you bite at a hand extending to help?"

He gave her a flat look, "Are you implying we're all dogs, First Symphony?"

"That's not what I said at all!"

"I have my orders, Your Majesty," he placed his thumb back under the belt as he reproached her. "I've already offered Tyrian Callows as much decency as we can afford. I will not give him any relief of the position he is in. Anything further will guarantee your danger. Unless you have an adequate reason for me to follow your request, I will keep the prisoner detained per Commander Rolan's orders."

"...I could change the order," she said, the words slipping out before she could take them back.

His eyes became as sharp as the blades in his possession. "Is that an order?"

"Does it need to be?" she challenged, deciding she may as well follow through with her intent.

"Yes," he said flatly.

They stared at another. At some point, she realized, his hand had moved from being tucked under his belt to resting on the pommel of his katana. She didn't have any such weapon on hand, not that she was afraid of him. She knew the gesture wasn't threatening. Though he was taller, though she felt that electric buzz of his power envelope her and touch her mind, she refused to look away.

All she felt for him was disappointment and pity. She let it show. "No. I won't make it. As you were, Seventh Symphony."

She saw the grip on his katana tighten. She had struck a nerve even when his face remained the same. With his other hand, he gave the salute belonging to his order; a fist to the chest and a hand on his weapon, legs spread slightly apart. She wasn't sure whether she was supposed to salute back and at the moment she didn't care. She walked off.

He went back to his training as if the entire conversation never happened.

0-0-0

"Six days?!" she slapped a hand on the table, completely flabbergasted by the information.

The captain of the ship, a shark faunus with sharp teeth and patches of blue scales on his skin, didn't bat an eye to her outburst. Or the fact she nearly knocked over his bottle of beer. She sulked by herself in the dining room until he and a few other crewmembers entered for lunch. She hadn't even realized it had been that long until they pointed it out.

She asked out of curiosity on how long the trip was going to take. Six, he said. She assumed hours until another crewmember corrected her.

"We will be docking on the island of Ancille halfway to drop off some of our cargo and refuel," the captain elaborated further with the patience of a god. "We'll spend a day there before shipping off for the mainland. Did your friends not tell you?"

"No, they certainly did not," she huffed, crossed her arms, and slouched in her chair. She knew it was going to take a couple of days to get to the city of Argos by car. She didn't know it was going to take this long by ship just to get to the continent. She didn't even have a spare change of clothes!

At least her regalia was always clean. Always. She chalked it up as magic since she _freaking couldn't take it off!_

"It'll be over before you know it," one of the crewmen shrugged. The fourth person in the room merely grunted in confirmation.

"Well… what do you guys do to pass up the time?" she asked. "I'm sure you're not _always _driving the ship. This thing's got autopilot… right?"

The captain laughed in good humor, "We've men on constant watch. There's always something that needs our attention so the voyage passes before we know it. We've never had to ferry guests so I can't help much with that."

"We've at least an hour before needing to go back," the first crewmember said. He pulled out a pack of cards and flashed them around the table. "We can at least entertain you with that much."

She recognized the cards. The cover had the same design as the back of the cards the Researchers were using. They must have borrowed them from this person.

"No poker," the captain jabbed a finger at his fellow faunus. "You all cheat and I'll not have you rob our guest blind."

"You just suck at it, cap," jested the man.

The silent crewmember grunted and nodded.

"Those black-coats were playing Go Fish last I saw them," the crewmember continued. "How's about that? Cheap— I mean, friendly enough for our guest?"

She nearly swallowed her tongue as she gave the captain a wary look. He caught it, blinked, and gave her a good stare. She couldn't meet his gaze and looked away quickly.

"Somethin' wrong?" he asked.

"Isn't that… uh… kinda, I don't know… offensive?" she forced herself to look at him. Her fingers played with a few strands of her hair… where his faunus traits would have been. Her voice started to drift down in volume. "Being a shark faunus… and all…?"

The crewmembers shared a look with their captain and vice-versa. They burst out laughing, reminding her of her recent conflict with Travis. Her cheeks burned and she sank into her seat and into her coat, having its collar hide the bottom half of her face.

"You mean well, girl," the captain waved a hand at her and calmed down. Also, she wasn't that much younger than him. "I ain't so soft to crumble apart over the name of a card game. Maybe those art major sissies up in Mistral would, heh. Sides, some of the worst things come from my own men. Ain't that right, you shit-eating momma's boy?"

"Fall off and drown, you fucking vegatarian," the crewmember across of him spat back with a dead-serious face.

Heavy silence. Then, another round of laughter. The captain drank his beer and the crewmember started shuffling cards. Regina found herself laughing along with them, albeit more out of relief than because of their sense of humor. She accepted the hand of cards the crewmember gave her and gave them a look.

...She felt bad for not knowing any of their names. But she was too embarrassed to ask about it this late in their conversation. One game and then she'll ask.

"Lady's first," the captain nudged his head at her. Everyone else agreed with either a nod or a grunt.

"Okay then…" she said as she put down the pairs she already had. A pair of twos and aces. That left her with… She looked to the crewmember. "Got any threes?"

"Tell the cap to fuck off," he said.

"Huh?" she blinked.

"I said go fish," he gave her a cheeky smile.

"You're cleaning the toilets tonight, _berry bear,_" the captain said in a voice that would have been better for a five year old. Either way, it made the man across of him chuckle.

She went along and played the game. She drew a card from the pile and blinked when she saw it. She flashed it in front of the others. "Oh, hey. I got what I—"

The whining of a siren disrupted their game. It was coming from the deck and was loud (and obnoxious, which was the point) enough to reach their ears. The men dropped their cards and jumped to their feet, heading for the door with the captain taking the lead. She was slower than them, only because she was startled and needed a moment to calm her beating heart.

She rushed out of the hallway and followed them to the navigation room. It was cramped with terminals, a steering wheel, an office area, and a communication's device. The room was full of seven crewmen, including the men who were entertaining her, as well as Travis. The captain had demanded a situation update by the time she entered the room.

"We have a skiff approaching due north-northeast," one of the faunus answered from one of the terminal seats. He had a radar in front of him. "They're not responding to any of our messages."

"We've also detected Grimm below us," another said. "We haven't gotten their attention yet. But if that ship is hostile, the negativity will draw them towards us."

"We can handle the Grimm," Travis spoke sharply. "If needed, we can also take care of that ship. We will follow your lead, captain."

The captain nodded as he headed towards the window facing the specified direction. "Relay this message to an open channel: Identify yourselves or be treated as pirates under international trading law. You have five minutes to respond or turn back."

The faunus with the radar nodded and began to relay the message into a mic and headset.

"Seventh Orchestra," Travis pulled out his communication pendant and spoke into it, clear enough for the room to hear. "Prepare for combat. Potential hostile threat incoming north-northeast. Strike on my mark or if fired upon first. Be aware of underwater Grimm."

Regina went towards the front of the room and looked down onto the deck. She saw half of the Seventh Orchestra rush into position with the other half taking the opposite side of the boat in the case Grimm surfaced. Those on the… right side of the boat stood at the railing fifteen or more feet apart. Only one of them had a weapon— a tactical hunting bow with a set of arrows. A second was a spotter, muttering something into her pendant. The third had his fingers pointing into the waters with his hand bracing and keeping his outstretched arm steady.

"Understood," Travis said. She turned her head and saw him listening to something only he could hear. "You have five minutes. Eleventh, I need eyes over and under us." He frowned. "Then prioritize the waters. The Grimm are the bigger threat."

"What's going on?" she took a few hurried steps over to him when he dropped his pendant.

"Men are in position to attack and defend, the Fifth is suiting up with the Sixth hastening the prep, and the Eleventh is keeping an eye on the Grimm beneath us," he told her in a steady but distracted tone. He was focusing on something else. "They might be simple pirates but they'll be annoying if they force the Grimm up here."

"And what will you do if they are pirates?" she asked next, watching him closely.

"Kill them," he said without a second thought, still focused on what other mental problem he had. As if it held greater gravity than ending another person's life.

"You're not even going to consider taking them prisoner?" she frowned.

He breathed out a heavy huff of annoyance through his nose. "Your Majesty, be reasonable. We already have our hands full holding one prisoner. What do you expect us to do with a band of pirates?"

"We will be docking at the Ancille Island," she put a hand on her hips and kept her shoulders square. "If you and your troupe are as powerful as you claim to be, you can hold a bunch of pirates for a few days. Then we can turn them into the authorities at Ancille. Isn't that right, captain?"

The shark faunus turned his head at hearing him being called. He was only half-listening and he needed a moment to consider her words. "Aye, miss. I'll feel nothing about sinking them. But if you can get them without endangering my men, we can hold them in an empty container."

"There you have it!" Regina stood a little taller. "I am giving you an order. Capture them alive!"

For a moment, he didn't move. Rather, it almost seemed like he couldn't. She could have sworn to have seen his coat tighten around him. It must have been him tensing up at having her order him around.

Eventually, he pulled his pendant back to his mouth and muttered lowly, "Attention. By decree of the First Symphony, we are to capture the potential hostels alive. Adjust tactics for non-lethal confrontation. Strike only on my orders or fired upon first."

"So it _can _be done," she hummed.

"At a higher risk of endangering us and the ship crew, yes," Travis lowered his head as he glared out the window. His hand fell to the shortsword at his waist. "We won't just be fighting pirates. I'm confident the Grimm will be drawn out."

"Can't you just control—"

"Captain, I see them drawing weapons," Travis said suddenly, urgently. He hurried over to the window beside the captain. "That's two assault rifles and a submachine gun. They're also preparing a ladder for boarding."

The captain accepted the looking glass handed by another crewman. He peered through, scanned for a moment, then swore aloud. "Hell of a sight, kid. We've got pirates approaching. Will altering our course or accelerating the ship hinder your men?"

"Changing the angle will, but picking up speed will be better for all of us," Travis said. "We'll need to make the Grimm work on boarding or damaging the ship."

"Aye, choppier waters will make it harder for them to get close," the captain nodded and moved quickly away from the window. Regina dove out of his path as he nearly barreled over her to reach a comms device on the other side of the room. He put the receiver to his ear and pulled on a handle. He waited only for a few seconds. "Mac! More speed! We've got pirates and possibly Grimm too."

He slammed the receiver down and went to take the wheel.

"If there are any sailors on deck, tell them to retreat to the interior of the ship," Travis told the captain. "My men will protect this ship."

The captain didn't react other than to pick up a handheld mic by his wheel and held the button down. His voice echoed throughout the entirety of the ship. "All hands, this is a code black. I repeat, this is a code black. All hands are to be below deck. I repeat…"

She felt the ship start to accelerate. It wasn't an obvious and immediate thing like an automobile would. She just felt the center of gravity shift to one side until she needed to adjust her balance.

"Attention Seventh Orchestra," Travis spoke to his pendant as he began to walk out of the room. He put a hand on her shoulder and pulled her along. "You are to neutralize the targets. Non-lethal tactics. You may strike when ready."

They stepped out of the room, crossed the hallway in long strides, and stepped out into the metal stairway leading to the deck. The wind slapped her across her face and sent her hair blowing in every direction. The hem of their cloaks billowed at their knees.

She saw it all happen so quickly. There was still the spotter, just staring off into the ocean and saying things Regina had no way of hearing. The one with the bow still had his weapon drawn but the third member who had his arm pointed out now had his arm resting on the bowman's shoulder. A signal was made by the spotter. The arrow was released… and then turned invisible when Regina tried to follow it.

She wondered if he measured in distance. The arrow was pointed directly at the oncoming vessel— a fishing boat full of five men. The distance was well over a hundred meters. Yet… she saw the arrow just _appear. _It landed into the side of the boat, missing any of the men.

She thought the bowman had just missed. She looked and saw him quickly drop his bow against the railing. It slammed into the railing, dragged itself along the side, until getting caught against one of the iron stakes holding it up.

Suddenly, the pirates' ship lurched against its will as if being tugged by an invisible coil between the arrow and the bow. One of the men fell overboard while the rest were thrown around on top of another. The boat hit a wake and bounced hard against the water. Another man was thrown off. The rest were holding on for dear life.

"Excellent shot, Pierce," Travis muttered into his pendant. "Fifth Symphony, I'll need you for retrieval. Two overboard— make that three. All units, prepare for battle. Grimm approach."

She was stunned, shocked beyond thought. What did she just see? No, never mind the strange magic. It was the tactic she saw. They were literally dragging those pirates along. The driver, with a maddened desperation she could see all the way over here, was trying to have their boat keep up with the speed and wakes created by the much bigger ship. Yet those onboard were being tossed around like a human salad.

She gasped when she saw a black monstrosity rise out of the water and consume one of the overboarded men. It happened so quick she didn't think even the man knew what happened.

"Make that two overboard, again," Travis said dryly into his pendant. "You have one minute, Jeremy."

"Tell your men to cut the cord!" She grabbed his arm and shook him. He was momentarily surprised by her act with one hand immediately going for a sword. She saw him force himself to not draw it. "You're killing those men! They can at least escape the Grimm!"

"They brought the Grimm to us," he retched his arm free from her. "Let them reap what they sow. My priority is your safety first and the ship second. No order from you will change that."

He put up a hand before she could say anything else. He picked up his pendant again and listened. He only needed a second before his eyes shot wide. He moved quickly, throwing an arm around her arms and another to cradle her head. She felt a cocoon of electric energy wrap around them both.

The boat shook hard enough to sway left and right, throwing them around the staircase and over the railings. She heard the snap of metal coils, crates being thrown around, and wood snapping. She heard Travis grunt with the wind escaping his lungs as they landed— she landing on top of him and he taking the brunt of it. Still, he kept his hold on her as they flew through the air and hit another surface.

She was dizzy but not hurt in any way. He released her and rolled over… as much as his swords would allow anyways. They had been tossed over the staircase and onto the lower deck, nearly five feet away from the edge of the ship. By the time she shook off the dizziness and could stand, he was already up on his feet with weapons drawn. In his left hand was a rapier and in his left was the shortsword.

"What happened?" she asked.

"Grimm," he said as he kept his eyes locked on the ships edge. He kept the rapier pointed towards it while using the shortsword as an improvised shield for her. "Big one. It came from the lower depths."

"How big?" she asked.

The ship rocked again. It wasn't anywhere near as hard as before. But it was due to the heavy waves being created on the other side of the ship, towards their backs. The waves were high enough to splash them.

The eruption of water had been caused by a Grimm. A serpentine monster longer than the ship rose out of the water. Its scales were purely black leather while its underbelly was layered with bone armor. Short arms hung at the upper half of the body with claws that were the size of any of the ship containers. It had the head of a dragon with white bone plating over its skull. Spikes protruded down its spine.

It was a goliath. They were only as tall as one of its teeth.

"That big," Travis said in such a simple tone it was as if they were having a passive conversation over tea.

_The weather is nice. So-and-so is sleeping with so-and-so. The Grimm that's about to kill us is that big. _Something like that.

"JEREMY!" Travis shouted with great alarm, his voice booming enough to hurt her ears.

The gargantuan, serpent Grimm turned its head towards them. It drew its head back like a snake, readying itself to strike and devour them.

She heard jet propulsions. Something black streaked across her vision. Immediately after, a thunderous boom burst her eardrums. Bone shattered on the Grimm's armor plating as its head jerked away. Something small, comparatively to the Grimm, had slammed into its maw before it could attack. This humanoid fly leapt off of its face and began to fly away from the ship.

The serpent Grimm didn't like that and chose to turn and follow after it. Its slithering across the water caused the ship to rock around but not enough for her to lose her balance.

"All units!" Travis shouted behind her, his voice rattled but more in control this time. "On me! Protect the king! Grimm inbound!"

More eruptions of water came. She saw black, humanoid beasts hook their claws onto the edge of the ship and climb on top. The Grimm climbing over were as tall as Travis with human appendages but with faces of piranhas. Their hands, finned as they were, also contained hook-like claws. At their elbows and back of their heads were bone-plated fins.

Travis stabbed into the chest of one Grimm and slashed twice at another in rapid succession before they could board. But more came. He sheathed the rapier, slashed again with the shortsword, and drew a cutlass at the same time. He sheathed the shortsword, slashed with the cutlass, and swung the greatsword at his back like a hammer.

Still, more Grimm came. For every one he cut down, three more leapt out of the water and climbed onto the ship's deck.

She heard the blasts of explosions, be they thermal or kinetic. She heard shouting from the deck— situation updates and rallying. Travis swore as he brought his sword around, extending the reach of his greatsword's range through his unique power.

"Give me a sword!" she shouted at him.

He crushed the body of one Grimm, lodged the cutlass into the skull of another, drew and threw the shortsword at her feet, and then withdrew the cutlass from the evaporating Grimm in a single second. He then sheathed the cutlass to hold his greatsword with both hands.

She slammed her foot down on the hilt. The shortsword flicked up into the air for her to catch… just in time for her to hack into another fish Grimm getting around Travis' defense. Instinct took over her as she was halfway through the first strike, already knowing through the tension this creature would not die with this strike alone. Without a single thought, she brought the blade around three more times, each one fatal to a normal person.

And yet, it was the fourth strike that eventually killed this single Grimm.

There were three more upon her with Travis taking on the rest of the horde.

She moved around them, using her smaller size and agility to get in and out of their reach. She stabbed, she slashed, and she used the pommel to crush. Not every strike could be fatal or critical as she needed to defend herself or create openings. But she fought with everything she had, being driven purely by the primal instinct to survive.

"Seventh Symphony requesting backup immediately!" Travis shouted as his back hit hers. They were both panting as they were surrounded by the growing numbers of relentless Grimm. The monsters wouldn't give them breathing room as they kept attacking. "Grimm focusing on our location!"

As she stabbed her blade from under the jaw of one Grimm, another slashed along her torso. She felt no pain as her silver coat protected her. But the force of the blow made her stumble away from Travis. He spun and cut into several Grimm at once in a flurry of swipes. He had tossed aside the greatsword in favor of the katana at some point she wasn't looking.

Instinct forced her to fall with the stumble. She couldn't avoid the slash that cut open her cheek and sent blood into her eye, but she avoided her skull being ripped open. She was on the ground for half a second, needing another half to roll back onto her feet. The Grimm wouldn't give her that.

One Grimm burst apart as Travis sliced its head right off. It spared her from it lunging at her… at the cost of him taking a blow to his back.

His coat didn't protect him. She heard the sound of fabric tearing open. The streak of red trailing behind the Grimm claw told her everything.

Travis didn't even register the pain. His face too consumed in the heat of the battle. His eyes focused on her. His blade still moving to attack the Grimm targeting her.

He cut down three more Grimm… while six more tore into his exposed back.

The space he created allowed her to rise back to her feet. She swung the blade around in almost reckless abandon. Her aura flared as she was struck by the Grimm surrounding her. But that as well as her coat protected her. Two Grimm disappeared into black mist.

Yet more kept coming from the ocean.

She heard the crash of metal and wood. In the corner of her eye did she see one of the crates fall off of another. Two of the Seventh were beneath it, one trying to get out of the way with another raising his arms in an attempt to catch it. She almost believed he would.

The two were crushed right underneath it. The only blessing being seven other Grimm being taken with them.

She knew these people had died. Yet she couldn't focus on them. She couldn't hesitate.

Her vision of that crate was being blocked by five more Grimm coming out of the water. This entire side of the deck was being swallowed by several dozen fishmen Grimm.

Aura had protected her from fatal wounds. But that didn't count for exhaustion. She didn't know for how long she had been fighting. The sword in her hand was heavier than it should have been. Her movements were becoming slower. Her aura was taking more hits than it was before.

Travis killed three to five times more than she did, sometimes taking the Grimm that were too close to her. Yet his aura didn't protect him. It made him faster than him. But his grace was more out of constant practice and experience rather than the innate guidance from the soul. He took blows that a normal huntsman would have foreseen.

Worse, he was bleeding. More and more by the second. His speed had been reduced to her prime.

He screamed. His voice erupted with a frequency that hurt her ears. An electric buzz filled the air as she saw sparks around her and the Grimm. A blanket of lead fell over her shoulders, slowing both her and the Grimm as they continued to fight. Yet Travis was unimpeded as he cut into twice as many as before.

"FUCK YOU ALL!" he shouted, enraged and in a frenzy. No longer were his strikes graceful. He swung his katana like a club. "FUCK YOU GRIMM! FUCK YOU CHASE!"

He charged one particular Grimm, or possibly due to it being the one directly in front of him. He slammed his katana across its chest as he rushed forward. He plowed through their surrounding enemies, knocking them over with the same Grimm raised by his weapon. He ran until he hit the side of a crate, pinning the Grimm against it.

Every step he took to reach there left a trail of blood. It poured down his ankle by the numerous wounds he had taken for her.

All the Grimm were watching him, drawn either by the level of his negativity or because of his unique energy. Grimm were always drawn by huntsmen and their awoken aura. His was flooding out so thickly she could barely breathe.

A dagger flicked out of his wrist. The Grimm pinned by him craned its neck and bit down into his shoulder. He screamed in pain but used it to fuel his rage. He slammed the dagger against the side of its head, close to the eye.

She saw him twist the knife, lean over, and rip the eye out with his teeth.

The Grimm twitched and flailed violently as if something sacred of it had been taken. It mauled against Travis' face and chest. More blood splashed around. He lost control of his arm as it fell to his side and dropped the dagger.

He screamed again. But this time… it wasn't his voice.

The howl of a Grimm escaped his lips as he brought his head back and roared out towards the sky. She saw white ooze squeeze out of the poors of his face, unifying and molding itself around his skull. She saw his face tear open with more blood slipping out, being drunk by the white ooze. Both solidified.

A Grimm mask had formed on his face in the same likeness of the ones they were battling.

Travis, or the thing he was now, roared out at the Grimm he had pinned under.

An unnatural stillness swept through the deck.

Then, like a hive mind, the Grimm turned and began to jump over the ship deck. As if she no longer mattered. As if nothing else mattered. They just… left, diving into the water and sinking away into the depths.

She shuddered, feeling suddenly cold in both exhaustion and fear. She raised her blade up towards the human with the Grimm mask, still pinning the fish Grimm against the crate. "T-Travis… Can you hear me? Are you still there?"

The thing turned its head towards her. Glowing silver eyes would not meet her.

It turned, releasing the Grimm, who took its time back into the water. The thing that was once Travis stared at her for a few seconds. It then looked down at its held weapon. Its limb shook before the katana fell out of its hand. It continued to look at its wrist. The charm bracelet she saw earlier was visible.

"Take… it all," she heard Travis' voice. Their eyes met. In this one glance, she saw that it was still Travise Rose under that mask. His voice was weak, desperate for air. "Tell Marla I…"

His jaw fell slack as he fell.

She couldn't move. She couldn't speak. The mask fell off of his face as his eyes stared off into a void. His mouth hung open with his tongue fell out. Blood no longer fell out of his wounds. He was too far drained.

As much as she wished otherwise… she knew he was dead.

"Travis?" her voice was so small she didn't recognize it herself. The body before her didn't respond. "Travis? Travis! S-Somebody! Please! Help!"

She ran and knelt beside him. Her hands hovered over him, not knowing what to do. He wasn't dead, she told herself. He wasn't. He was hurt badly. He wasn't dead. He needed medical attention. He wasn't dead. He needed—

He was dead.

They came too late. She saw their boots only as they circled around her. There were no sounds of shock, no words of grief or damnation. There was only acceptance. She heard a sigh or two, words being exchanged, the transfer of command going to the Fifth Symphony.

Hands gripped her shoulders. Her head snapped around as if disturbed from a deep slumber. She found the reddened eyes of the Eleventh Symphony, Pinky. Tears were falling down her cheeks. Not a word was said as she tugged on Regina's shoulders.

She accepted the younger girl's guidance and left them to tend to Travis' body.


	6. Chapter 6

**Quick Note:**

A couple chapters ago I said the K in King needs to be capitalized. Chase said this, specifically. This is not entirely true. The capital K 'King' only belongs to the stories revolving around Ilyvander; such as Reverse, or more known here, Broken Rules. The title of King in that world is due to their world's translation as well as significance. Here, in Synthesis based stories like Researchers of Menagerie, it's just a simple, lowercase king.

So ignore that small part about what Chase said about the station.

Second, the fat fuck that usually appears in Chapter 4 did not appear this time. That's because in this wacky fanfiction chronology he is busy doing something else. He might be as well in Chapter 14 but that entirely depends on my end.

There was something else... but I can't recall. I know I should mention something about Travis but, well, I'd rather wait until the story advances. I want to get through all the character interactions before I say my piece. Thank you everyone who shared their opinion about him.

Now, on with the show.

* * *

"Spoke to the captain," Jeremy said as he approached his fellow Symphonies on the deck. "We are an hour out from Ancile. We'll be sitting at the docks for the remainder of the day and ship off again at dawn."

"Will we be able to step off the boat?" Pinky asked.

"The island is an occupied territory of Mistral," Jeremy recited. "Mistral is their sovereign and we are aliens without documentation. So… probably not."

"So there's no way we can contact home base?" Albert grumbled with a bit of heat. His grip on the railing tightened.

"Ancile doesn't have a CCT… whatever that is…" Jeremy replied.

"Cross Continental Transmit System."

"Huh, that makes sense now," Jeremy paused to consider the new information. He knew Albert was growing impatient and went back to the topic. "However, Ancile has a few communication dishes for sending and receiving messages from the CCTs. They can also be used to bounce messages from Menagerie's ships to the continent."

"What is the likeliness that a status update can be received then?" Pinky asked.

"It entirely depends on who receives the message and if they're willing to relay it to the next ship, to the next," he rolled his wrist. "So on and so on until reaching either Chieftain Belladonna or Chief Graymane. The captain also recommended carrier pigeon."

"Isn't that fucking great," Albert growled. "These backwater neanderthals have conveniences that outshine our technology but can't figure out how to send a satellite out into orbit? How about something simpler like submarine communication wiring? Communication is the backbone of any civilization! Not whether a screen is a touchpad or not!"

"...You holding up there, Al?" Jeremy asked with concern.

Albert sighed angrily and adjusted the fishman Grimm mask. "No. I hate wearing this. Especially for a long time like this. Steph's been a help keeping me calm. I probably would have shot—" He forced himself to stop as he leaned further on the rails, his grip on them tightening.

It's been a few days since the ambush and Travis' death. Jeremy had assumed command and rearranged the security detail. The remainder of the Seventh Orchestra were to keep a watch on their prisoners while Albert— the only Acolyte among the Symphonies— wore Travis' Grimm mask to keep the monsters away. The surviving Tenth Orchestra member, whom Jeremy guiltily never bothered to learn her name, tended to Albert to keep him stable.

Jeremy only wore his mask for short periods. Very short periods. He wasn't an Acolyte and had someone else make it for him. As such, he didn't have any resistance to the Grimm's influence. It poked at him, frustrating and aggravating him the longer he wore it. He found himself having dark thoughts— things he was ashamed of and couldn't deny for being _his_.

He knew wearing it for longer than a few hours would have him going on a killing spree. God, how he wanted to kill Chase and Monk whenever he put on that mask.

He couldn't imagine how Albert was feeling, having worn it for multiple days with only a few breaks between.

"It's only a little while longer," Jeremy said. "Ancile has some kind of anti-Grimm net in its waters. So long as we keep Aura use to a minimum, it should be fine."

"Only an hour away," Albert huffed. But he stood straight and crossed his arms, a more composed stance. "There's been thirty-seven attempts from the Grimm since then. I'm expecting at least one more before then."

"Will you be fine?"

"I'll manage," Albert snapped and Jeremy didn't blame him. He gripped his biceps as he fought down his anger. "Speak of the devil. I need a moment alone to shove them off."

Jeremy nodded and nudged his head in a gesture to Pinky. She took the hint and began to walk at his side when he turned to give Albert some space. He spoke to her, "Have you been able to learn anything in your scouting?"

"I've sent out familiars to both the sky and sea," she answered, a bit of tiredness slipping out of her breath. "The Grimm seem to be ignoring them, which means they're not drawn to my magic. Learning this, I took a gambit and marked a few of them with a tracking spell."

"And…?" he pressed as they made their way to the metal stairs leading up towards the cabin.

"Most disperse back to their territory after a certain distance," she informed, her head bobbing slightly. "That includes those who join the herd to attack us until Captain Gener disperses them. However, there has always been at least one remaining. There is a raven-type Grimm that flies over us periodically. Sometimes it's by itself. Sometimes it's with a flock of its own. I don't know if it's more intelligent than the others or…"

"Or being controlled," Jeremy finished. They reached the interior and he held the door open for her. Once they were inside, they moved away from the navigation room and towards the dorms. "I need to compose a report for Commander Rolan. Do you think this should be included?"

"Perhaps mentioned but I need to further investigate it to be sure of anything," she dipped her head and hummed to herself. He let her think quietly for a moment before she continued, "Master Ultimo, with half our security force… removed, it is in my opinion that we are in need of reinforcements. I strongly recommend the Ninth Symphony for dealing with a large sum of Grimm. We cannot expect Captain Gener to wear his mask for long."

He nodded, "I agree. However, I'm not sure when or how reinforcements will arrive. I'll send word out but cannot wait for a reply. We will ship out again for the continent of Anima at dawn."

"Ancile seems to be a secure area," Pinky mentioned.

"We can't squat there forever," he breathed out. "It's not the Grimm I'm worried about. It's our captive. The longer we exhaust ourselves, the better chance he has to get the king. In all the times Grimm approached the ship, why hasn't he stirred from his holding?"

Pinky was quiet in acceptance.

He then took a deep breath, bracing himself for something he had been dreading for a long time. "I need to inform the king. I would appreciate it if you came along during her state of duress."

"I apologize, Master Ultimo," she gave a strange bow/not-bow customary from her homeland. "I must return to my surveillance of the Grimm. I am the eyes and ears of this vessel."

His eyes bore into hers. _Traitor._

_Sorry, not sorry,_ said her return stare.

He dismissed her, she saluted and walked off, and he went deeper into the dorms.

He didn't get much thinking done as he reached one of the rooms given to him and the other Researchers. They were given three, each one containing four bunks and nothing else. He knocked on the door and wasn't given an answer. He didn't expect it either.

"Your Majesty," he called out. "I am entering."

There were no locks on the door. He pulled back the latch and pushed the door open. The room itself was compact with hardly any standing room for more than two people. It was built purely for sleeping with two bunks stacked on opposite walls. There was a circular window in the back to let light in.

Travis' swords were stacked on top of one of the bunk beds, still strapped to the holster he used to carry them all. There were also a set of clothes thrown across the floor.

He found the king lying on one of the beds. She still wore the silver regalia but, as far as Jeremy could tell, was completely naked underneath. She was mostly covered with the exception of a moonlight pale leg up to her thigh.

If it were Marla, he would stare until he noticed her coy and inviting smile, then force himself to look away. If it were Alice (though she'd never be in this state), he'd immediately tell her to dress appropriately. If it were Pinky… well, he had a few ideas on what he wanted to do but would more likely do the exact opposite.

He felt nothing for this woman. Here was proof a man could hate a woman enough to not feel any form of arousal from them.

She didn't stir from her position… clutching onto Travis' coat as though she were a small child with a blanket.

She looked so sad and pathetic. Definitely nothing like the immaculate First Symphony before her. Not even as intimidating as Chase or as intelligent as Alice. Not even from the flawless Master Melodic. This was furthest from the leader they needed.

"Your Majesty," Jeremy shut the door behind him as he stepped further. She heard him this time as her eyes flicked towards him. He paused when his foot landed on something… and pretended to have not noticed when he saw it as her undergarments. He looked straight at her instead.

She sat up, still holding onto the black coat, and drew her legs to her chest. She used the hem of her regalia to cover them and wrapped her arms around her knees to keep hold of it. "Yes? What is it?"

"I'm just letting you know we will be docking soon," he told her. "We will be arriving at Ancile in an hour and will be there until next dawn. The ship captain has promised to escort the two pirates we've detained into rightful custody. The mission is still on to deliver Tyrian Callows to the city of Argos."

"I see…" she said quietly. "Will you be sending… the bodies back to Menagerie?"

He didn't hide his frown, "No. We've already sent them off into the ocean."

"You what?!" Life returned to her as she kicked her feet off the bed and rose quickly. She slammed her head against the bunk above her, winced with one hand pressed against the mark, and was a little more careful when rising to her feet. "What do you mean you dropped them into the ocean?!"

"You have all of the Seventh Symphony's armaments," Jeremy more jabbed than pointed a finger at the coat she held onto. There were also the swords on the bed and, though he didn't see it, he knew she also possessed his Crest and pendant. "His legacy can carry on. As we cannot preserve any of their eyes at the moment, protocol dictates we dispose of the bodies so no other parties can use them. We've honored their sacrifice and sent them off."

"Why didn't you tell me?" she pleaded, outraged in her own little way. Like a child throwing a tantrum.

"Why would I?" he snapped back, feeling the heat of his own anger rising up out of his chest. His tone and probably the look on his face had her stepping back. He didn't care right now. "You killed Travis. You killed Pierce, Hawkeye, and Gothard. You didn't even know their names, did you? Having you there for their sendoff would have been an insult to what they died for— a whole load of _nothing_!"

She stood there, horrified with eyes wide and mouth hung open. She was stunned, unable to make sense of the words he unleashed. He felt satisfaction in knowing he had made her feel something. A swell of pride bloomed in his heart.

He then felt the deepest, most nauseating ache of shame when she started to cry. Small sobs and sniffles as tears swelled and rolled off her cheeks. She just stood there, bowing her head, shutting her eyes, and crying. Her unkempt hair hid her face and she made no effort to move a strand or wipe her face clean. The only sound being made was her gasps and sobs.

Maybe another Researcher would have been content with this. He knew some of them would have pressed further. But seeing this woman like this, as much as he had fantasized about this since Travis' death, had him feeling nothing but shame and guilt.

He approached. She either didn't notice or didn't care. He put his hands on her shoulders and guided her back to the bed. She sat down on the edge with the smallest of pushes on his part. She continued to cry when he stepped away and sat on the edge of the bed across from her.

"I'm sorry," he said and meant it, something only one or two other Researchers in the entire company would ever do. "Travis was… my friend. I've known… _knew _him for a long time. We survived our masters' trials, Primeval Nightmare hunts, and the worst the war had to throw at us. I always thought he'd go down fighting an Ender… or doing something stupid for Marla. I never expected him to die here, in a strange land, by a bunch of strange beasts."

He knew he was just making excuses for himself. They had fueled his anger, yes, but his master would have punished him for losing control. He knew he was better than this. Or, he thought he was. He thought he couldn't get angry after losing his family.

He sat up straight (or as much as the bunk would allow him) and brought his right hand up to his chest, thumb tucked in with the fingers extended towards the ceiling. He breathed in, held it, drew his Aura to his chest, and breathed out, releasing it into the air. He felt the taint and negative energy leave him. With it, much of his anger released its cold grasp on his heart. Some still lingered and nothing from a Tuning would absolve it.

Regina said something as she wiped her eyes with her palms.

"I didn't catch that."

"I said you're right," she said, louder, but no more than a strained whisper. "I killed them. None of this would have happened if I…"

Now that he was calmer, he didn't know what to do. He didn't want to be here. He didn't know how to comfort a woman ten years older than him. Hell, he hardly knew how to talk to girls his own age. And with her crying, he wanted nothing more to do and leave.

"So did I," he blurted out. He at least had her attention with her way she finally lifted her head to look at him. "I rescued two of the pirates and then prioritized the larger Grimm as the bigger threat. I should have left that to Albert and dealt with the ones boarding the ship."

The tactical part of his mind told him it would have been better to let the pirates drown or get eaten by the Grimm. But his heart wouldn't forgive it. He agreed with the order to rescue them simply because he wanted to give them a chance to redeem themselves. He doubted they would, but he could go with a clear conscience.

He wondered how differently things would play out if he let them drown. Would he have been able to help Travis in time? Would the Seventh Symphony still succumb to his wounds? Who knows.

"You didn't kill them," Regina argued bitterly. "You were following orders. My orders. And that giant Grimm would have sunk the ship."

"I will not accept your words any more than you will accept mine," he told her with a straight face. "Maybe it's both our faults. Maybe it's Tyrian's or his boss'. Maybe it's the commander's for sending the wrong team. Or maybe it's just out of our hands."

"I don't accept that," she shook her head and clutched Travis' coat a little tighter. She noticed and pulled it away from herself. Her eyes stared at the shredded claw marks. "I _can't_. I can't just pretend it didn't happen. I have to hold some kind of responsibility over this. Not just because I'm your king, but because it is my fault."

He kept his comments about what he thought of her station to himself. Instead, he took another breath and spoke, "Then that's something you'll have to come to terms with on your own. The fact remains we still have a job to do. We have to adapt and move on. You have until we reach Anima. Otherwise, king or not, I will send you back to Menagerie."

He couldn't if she used her authority. But she didn't know the full details of her position.

He rose to his feet and headed for the door.

"What should I do?" she asked in a clearer voice. "What do you need for me to do as your king?"

He was the wrong person to ask. He wasn't an Acolyte. He was a mundane human who struggled everyday to belong to these people. Even when he was one of the 'elite' officers, he didn't hold any actual command like Chase or Alice. Hell, he asked for Albert's input time and again as the man was his senior. Jeremy was a specialist and leader of the Researcher's black ops. A fighter first and foremost. What did he know about ruling?

"I think…" despite what he thought of himself, he still found an answer to give, "you need to understand where we all come from. Listen to our stories and don't judge. I think we'll start to take you seriously if you do the same for us."

He left her with that to stew over.

0-0-0

Chase sat at the head of the long table in an actual fucking chair. Not a stool. Not two planks with sticks as uneven legs. An actual chair that was curved for back support and cushioned so his ass and legs wouldn't fall asleep. He wanted to move all his shit from his tent to here. Maybe he will since he was running out of space and this new building was only going to be used to host meetings.

Things had started to calm down enough to get some serious work done around the base. Tents were still being used but they had gotten around to build better huts. The Twelfth Orchestra had gotten off their lazy asses to search for limestone finally. Combined with the ingenuity of the Sixth, they had been able to make decent enough huts out of the materials from the desert.

It was still mostly sand. Sandstone, sand-concrete (there was a difference, he was told), and limestone were the main factors. They added a few other things here and there but he wasn't as educated as the Sixth and so left them to the designing.

There was also the glorious final installation of underground plumbing. Shower stalls were built with water towers applying natural pressure. Sure, they had to pump water all the way out of the ocean and spend an entire day purifying it, but it was better than stewing in their own sweat and grime.

The hut he was in now, more of a squat pale-gold color, was one of the largest ones and was to be the meeting room until something better could be constructed. It was a good ten degrees cooler inside— something he could definitely tolerate but still left some of the others sweating. It would be a long while before the Sixth could make air conditioning. One thing at a time, he told himself.

He looked at the rest of his Researchers. Alice, Marla, Isaac, Alec, and Monk were all waiting for him to begin. Marla was fanning herself with a rather decorative fan she must have charmed some Menagerian guard into giving her as a present. She was also tugging on the collar of her shirt, baring a good sum of cleavage. It was pointed at him but Monk was the one who was basking in the full view.

Chase rolled his eyes and waved a hand. Cold air blew around them. The entire room sighed with sweet relief. Sissies.

"So there's been some good news," he spoke up. "The Sixth have been able to restore some of our phones and computers. I'm seeing if we can purchase a few speaker systems from Menagerie and have the Sixth make them compatible with our tech. We'll get some music playing around here to lighten the mood."

"Yo!" Isaac slammed both hands down onto the table. "If we got speakers, do you think we can get a projector?"

"...That entirely depends on what we can get our hands on and if the Sixth _can _convert the tech," he replied dryly. "We don't exactly have money, Isaac."

"Yeah, yeah," the Ninth waved his hand a few times as if it wasn't a problem. Rather, it wasn't _his _problem. "But think about it Chase. Movie night! Someone's gotta have a movie or two saved on their laptops, yeah?"

"It _would _boost everyone's morale," Monk added in with mild agreement. He was developing a poor habit of scratching the stubble under his chin. "And if we're in another world, the Menage' might not have the same movies as us. Say, maybe, let them watch a few movies for free as a downpayment for the projector and then charge them after that."

"We'd have to show it at night," Alec commented, which was rare in itself. "And out in the open. The screen would have to be a big enough wall. We'd also have to expand our barrer to make an area for this."

"Having a projector alone would help us in the long run," Marla added her own opinion, still tugging on the low collar but no longer fanning herself. "We could use it for presentations and logistical meetings. Not all of us can draw on chalkboards."

More suggestions were thrown around. He let them all go at it for a bit. It was nice to see them discussing something without someone's life at stake.

"Cart before horse, people," Chase interjected as more outlandish suggestions were being made. Such as turning the area into a stage for talent night. _Never again_. "We need to get the right equipment before we can make further plans. Also remember the Sixth are working on other things at the moment. As should the Twelfth."

Alec sank in his seat before resting his cheek on the cool surface of the stone table. Mention any work to him and he would deflate.

"Preparations for the expedition are almost complete on my end," Monk reported as Chase continued to glare at Alec. "We've been rationing the food Menagerie has given us but can't give anything longer than a week's worth for the team. However, we've gathered enough purified water and salt for the trip. We're just finishing up the sand sleighs for the heavy cargo."

"Why not ask Menagerie for more supplies?" Marla inquired.

"Because we're already in their debt and I'd like to keep our relationship out of the red," Chase answered sourly. "We need to show that we can take care of ourselves. This expedition is to search for valuable resources. We can trade whatever we find with Menagerie but for now…"

He paused when he felt his pendant pulse. He didn't need to make a gesture to pause as they all felt the pulse, being this close together in the room. He withdrew his pendant and sent Aura through it. The message relayed through his mind.

'_Commander Rolan, Chieftain Belladonna is requesting a meeting with you. Says he has some important news for your ears only.'_

"Send him through," Chase sent back before dropping the pendant. He addressed his subordinates, "Belladonna is here with some news. If he suggests you leave, wait for my command."

There wasn't a single look of suspicion or glare of challenge. Thank God he sent Travis and Jeremy with that useless and needy king. It was nice not having his authority questioned at moments like these.

Then again, most of the ones here didn't care and just followed orders simply because they were told to. The only ones who were truly loyal to him was Pinky (who wasn't present), Marla (who was a thirsty bitch and he was, apparently, the only guy to tell her to fuck off), and Monk (for reasons even the man didn't know himself).

It didn't take long for Ghira to arrive. The man stepped through the wooden doors, as tall and as imposing as he always was. His eyes met Chase's right away. And Chase knew the news wasn't going to be in his favor.

"Belladonna," Chase greeted with a raised hand and a lighter tone, pretending to not notice the man's grim presence. "Please tell me you have some kind of draft of peace between us."

"I am always open and willing to discuss peace among us," Ghira dipped his head in agreement but kept a stony expression. "However, I came here today to be the herald of some unfortunate news. Your officers might wish to hear this, but I will let you decide."

"Does it have anything to do with our status with Menagerie?" Chase's eyes narrowed.

"No," Ghira shook his head. "It pertains to the men you sent offshore."

Chase's brows furrowed. "Then it might be best for everyone to hear. What do you have for us?"

And Ghira told them. The details were vague due to a game of telephone tag but could not be questioned. There had been a Grimm attack on the ship. The Grimm were pushed back but four of the Researchers perished. They reached the island of Ancile off of the cost of Anima and were requesting backup.

Most of the names of the deceased were botched. But it couldn't be ruled out that the leader of the Seventh Symphony was among them.

Travis was dead, fallen by a swarm of fish Grimm.

He would have laughed if it were literally anyone else in the room. Instead he felt… annoyance. One of the biggest challengers to his authority was gone and he felt _annoyed _by it. Should he feel relief in the fact he had much more liberty to his orders? He wanted to. Instead, he felt disappointment.

Monk ran a hand through his hair while taking a deep breath. Isaac was looking around as if this were a bad joke and someone to start laughing. Alec had one of those rare looks of seriousness as he sat up. Alyse had shut her book and pushed it away, looking at Chase to see what he would do next.

Marla was denying all of it. He saw her eyes flick around, furiously searching for answers in a compact space only she could see. Her mind raced. She sat there, still, and not looking at any of them.

"Thank you, Belladonna," Chase said, surprised with himself on how… quiet his voice was. "If you have anything else, it will have to wait. We need a moment."

"I came as soon as I heard," Ghira shook his head, his eyes shining with sympathy and understanding. The man probably did know what they were all going through. That warmth pissed off Chase more. "You all have my condolences. Seek me out should you wish to send aid. I will have a vessel ready."

He bowed to them and excused himself out of the building.

"Fuck…" Monk breathed out with exasperation, dragging the word out as he ran both hands through his hair this time.

They were all looking at Chase. No, Marla wasn't. She had sunk into herself. Though she looked composed on the outside, aloof in her posture with an uncaring expression, she wasn't looking at anyone. He was sure nothing short of an explosion would get her attention.

Seeing her like this enhanced his feelings of annoyance and disappointment. They turned into spite quickly.

He slammed a fist onto the table, knuckles first. Once. Twice. A third time until his blood left a smear on the surface. Two of his fingers were broken. The pain turned his frustration into anger. And he drank in the anger, swallowing it, and storing it for later. The pain turned into a dull ache as he drew back his hand and rested his chin under it.

Was it because they were on a ship they were put in such a spot? Did Travis not have a chance to activate his Crest? Why weren't Jeremy and Albert enough? Were they calling for reinforcements because of their lower numbers or because the threat had originally been that high?

His mind already assumed the absolute worst. He even added in his own variables as well as the possibility of hidden threats— no, the _promise _of hidden threats. Ideas floated around. He grasped onto them before they could fade away by his burning anger. A plan was made then and there.

"Isaac," his voice was cold as he felt his Frost affinity rise.

Why was his Frost so strong when he was so _angry_? He should be breathing flames right now, not blowing mist.

"Sir," Isaac gulped.

"I am sending you with the expedition team with Alec," Chase ordered. "You are to eliminate any and all Grimm you come across. I want a full detailed report on their habits, their attack patterns, weaknesses, and durability. I want these things fully dissected and understood by the time I come back. I want to know where they dwell and why we haven't been able to eradicate them off the island forever."

They all noticed his choice of words but none of them would dare question it.

"In the meantime," he began to elaborate, "Alice and I will be borrowing the Ninth Orchestra. We are heading straight for Ancile. Monk, I'll need you to prepare us supplies for one day."

"It's been five days," Alice pointed out. "It took them that long at most to send a message back to us. Don't you think we'll need more supplies?"

"One day will be enough," Chase glared back at her. "We will be traveling faster than boat and can resupply at Ancile."

"That's still a long trip for the Ninth," Marla spoke up, her voice as nonchalant as always but it carried a lighter, weaker, tone than usual. "If you're going by what I think, you'll be pushing the men for a full day. The Sixth Orchestra can make the trip much easier as they're conditioned for things like this."

"Yes, but I have them working on something else for the time being. The Ninth will have to do."

Marla sighed a sigh that told them all she was done with the meeting. She sat there and waited for the dismissal, no matter how long it would take.

The finer details were discussed. Such included the provisions needed, equipment for the journey, lasting orders for those staying behind, and the temporary chain of command. Hell was freezing over when _Monk _was the acting leader while everyone else was gone. Even he blinked a few times when Chase gave him his orders.

He dismissed them all to carry out their orders and regular duties. Monk was the first to leave followed by Isaac and Alec. Marla took her time getting out of her chair, collecting her composure, and walking out with the grace and coy she always had. A practice she had mastered before he knew her.

Alice remained behind. She cleaned her cracked glasses with a delicate care as to not break the glass any further. "Are you doing this because you're angry?"

"I'm always angry," he returned dryly.

"Angry is your default setting," she nodded, commenting on him as if he were a bot. "Which means your calm is another person's anger. I'm asking if _you're _angry."

Fucking Alice. Her logic was always warped yet easy to understand. "Of course I'm angry. I'm angry that Travis was so imcompetent. I'm angry that I sent the wrong team for the job. And I'm angry at the Grimm for killing him. I won't make the same mistake again."

He saw her concede in… whatever argument she had with herself. She put her glasses back on and adjusted them with two fingers at each edge, making sure the fitting was perfect. "Mistral will see this as an invasion. We're not ready for another war, Chase."

"The trick isn't to provoke them," he muttered. "The trick is to speak softly and carry a big stick."

She rolled her eyes. "Boys. Well, I don't really care if people die. Just don't make things difficult for me."

"Your job is very simple," he leaned back and crossed his arms. "When Mistral retaliates, make sure no one dies. On either side. Do your usual trick, use the Grimm, I don't care. Just hold your ground until Ghira pulls you back."

She blinked once. He saw parts of his plan he didn't elaborate. He also knew she planned several steps ahead of him. Without using an eye technique to read another's thoughts, they understood each other's intent at a personal level. As if their thoughts were each other's. She would carry out his plan, improve it with the mistakes he made as well as the holes he missed, and probably accomplish it better than he would.

She also caught something else he said with the way her gaze sharpened. "I want new books. And candy! I want the best Mistral has to offer."

It was his turn to roll his eyes, "I'll see what I can find. But remember I'm going to save their sorry asses. You have your orders, vice-commander. We move out at nightfall."

Alice's brows fell in the same way Alec's would at the mention of work. She dragged her book off the table before tucking it under her arm and walking out.

Chase looked at his broken hand. It was starting to swell and purple. He sent his Aura to it, overfilling it to have it leak out of the pores and distort the air around it. He heard his knuckles crack, the bones straighten, and a sharp pain that swept up his entire arm. He didn't flinch.

He focused the Aura this time, gave it purpose. A glove of frost formed over his hand, compacting tight. He made a fist; pain still surging but manageable. He could use this hand if he wanted to. To make sure, he'll visit the Tenth's ward before leaving. Strike that; they'll tell him otherwise and try to have him not use it until it properly healed.

His hack Tuning will have to do. He made sure to keep a steady flow of Aura for the remainder of the day.

0-0-0

"I heard what happened."

"Sienna," he breathed her name out as if it exhausted him. She found him giving instructions to some black coats hauling crates around. Chase turned around and she saw his eyes sharp, focused, but just as wild as when they first met. "Why am I not surprised you're here again?"

The guards let her through with nothing more than a single glance. She was even armed this time! As she made her way towards Chase's tent, she received nothing but polite nods, a few waves in friendly greeting, and whoops for luck. Did they honestly think she was sleeping with this kid?!

She wouldn't tell him this, though.

"I want to help," she said, putting a hand on the hilt of her bladed whip at her waist.

His eyes narrowed and brows furrowed as if she were an idiot. "What? Why? You're not even an Acolyte."

She had prepared a response long in advance. However, her eyes landed on the blue hand tucked under his crossed arms. A gauntlet of ice covered his right hand but not his left. "What's up with your hand?"

"Never you mind," he snapped but made no move to hide his hand from her. "Look, tell Ghira whatever you want. Tell him we're invading Mistral for all I care. Just don't pretend to help so you can spy on us."

She frowned, "I'm not pretending anything. I'm here because I want to help."

"Sure," he scoffed at her. "And you're not going to be telling Ghira about everything that happens?"

"Ghira is a friend. Of course I'm going to tell him what I've been up to."

"I'm not in the mood to play this game with you," he brought the ice gauntlet up and tapped a few times on his right temple as if a migraine was growing. "You come here to annoy me. I get annoyed. I tell you something so you stop annoying me. And then we both pretend you haven't been spying on us for Ghira as you skip all the way back to the village. I don't have anything to pay your fee this time."

"Yes, I _do _tell Ghira things," she spread her legs apart and planted her hands on her hips. She was the one getting annoyed by his attitude. "But he doesn't make me do it. It's not that different from friends talking among themselves."

He stared at her in silence, waiting for her to say something else. His brows shot up when she waved a hand in his direction. "Oh. You're done. And here I thought you had something intelligent to say for once."

She felt her brows crease and lips twitch. "Why are you always like this?"

"Because I have some leech sapping away my time," he retorted immediately. He looked around suddenly, found something, and pointed to his right. "If you want to spy for Ghira, there's Monk. Go scratch his post and he'll tell you whatever you want. I have actual shit to do, Sienna."

She had to cover her face with one hand to stop herself from attacking him. Her own anger was reaching a new level. Her thumb and forefinger gripped tightly around her temples. Her claws were extended and digging into her skin but not enough to penetrate through her aura. She took a deep breath and forced the anger aside. He was watching her with his red and blue eyes when she put her hand back down.

"You know what?" she began, shifting her weight to favor her right leg. "Fine. Sure! I have been spying on you guys this entire time. I've told Ghira _everything_. Are you happy?"

His only reply was to point a finger back at the Eighth Symphony, who was aware of their conversation and gave Sienna a suggestive look. She gave him a dead stare. He shrugged as if to say '_your loss' _before continuing his path through the dirt road.

"I can offer you something Ghira can't," she tried instead. Chase's brows shifted but didn't change his expression any further. "Or rather… won't. I have a team that has some huntsmen training. Remember that boat I offered you when you first arrived? We can get you one long before Ghira can."

"How soon?" he asked, his expression still remaining as… bitchy (let's call it for what it was) as it was the whole conversation.

"We can be ready to leave as soon as dawn," she answered. "It's smaller than the reefer your crew left on but much faster. We can reach your men in a quarter of the time."

He studied her. She felt his psychic interference skim through the surface of her mind. She shuddered at it and gave him a warning glare not to pry any deeper. He didn't but also didn't stop peeling away her mind like clothing.

"Why are you doing this, Sienna?" he asked, drawing his powers back. He suddenly sounded tired. It caught her off guard. "What could you possibly have to gain from this?"

"...I want to hire you for—"

"And there it is!" he shouted, throwing his hands up in the air and taking a few steps away from her. "There it is, ladies and gentlemen! May I present to you the bullshitter of the evening, Miss Sienna Khan!"

"KHAAAAAAAN!" the Researchers shouted at the top of their lungs. Like a battle cry, it echoed throughout the camp in waves. She was sure the guards mounted on the village walls heard it.

She still didn't understand why they did it.

"Next time, open with that," Chase turned back to her. He had one arm tucked around his waist with the other elbow propped on it. He had the ice gauntlet digging into his face as if it ached him. His eyes pierced through the gaps of his makeshift claws. "Don't waste my time again. I have half a mind to tell you to fuck off."

"But only half," she pointed out, also recovering from the howl of her name. "I meant when I said I wanted to help. I'm willing to help you cross Mistral and get to Argos. It's just… on the way back I… need your help."

He lowered his gauntlet and stared at her with his glowing eyes. She didn't feel any invasion into her mind. "And what exactly do you want us to do?"

"There's a farm," she began, her voice dropping in pitch as the information physically made her sick. "Mistral is mostly run by the old families and the crime lords. The law can easily look the other way if the price is right. One such crime family runs a portion of Mistral through the bartering of faunus slaves."

She saw his frown deepen as he considered her words. It didn't last long. "You want us to free the slaves and bring the slavers to justice? Is that it?"

"Yes… and no," she said as she stepped up to him. "I want the faunus freed. And I want those bastards to burn."

The glow of his eyes died down until they became a soft brown. "Why didn't you tell us this when I sent my men off?"

"I didn't have all the information at the time," she sighed and stepped back. She frowned further as she looked away. "We knew of the farm and had been able to rescue some of the faunus mid-transport. But we could never learn where it was. Not until… someone I knew personally was taken."

He switched hands, this time rubbing his face with his normal hand. She could see how tired he was when he drew it away. It was as if he hadn't slept a single day since they first met. Yet his eyes remained as sharp as ever.

"Bring your vessel to the south-west coast," he said, pointing in a general location behind her. "We'll meet you out there at dawn."

Her shoulders relaxed as her expression softened. "Thank you."

He looked as if he didn't know what to do with those words.

Her gratitude was immeasurable. With the Researcher's power… they could definitely get the job done. Even if they didn't use the Grimm in the raid, their witchcraft alone could decimate the area. No huntsman would be able to stand against them. Those poor faunus would be set free and given a better life. She knew Ghira would accept any of the refugees that didn't have a home to return to.

Know what? Fuck it.

She approached Chase and brought her face towards his.

His hand snapped onto her shoulder and he gave her such a hard shove it spun her around. She landed on her side on the floor. Confused, and _very pissed off_, she whipped her head around to demand an answer.

"Don't!" his voice was tense as he jabbed a finger at her. The entire hand was shaking. "Don't do that again. Fucking Khan."

Nobody shouted her name. Nobody dared to. The Researchers who had seen what just happened pretended otherwise. They scattered like frightened children when their commander turned on his heels and stormed away.

Sienna rose to her feet and stared at Chase's shrinking back. She looked at the other Researchers in a silent inquiry. None of them answered. One or two shrugged or shook their heads. No one was going to talk about what happened.

She dismissed it and stormed off herself. Fuck him. She was going to give him a kiss on the cheek anyways. Something to show her gratitude. Fuck. Him. This was the last time she showed him any kindness.

That shaking hand bothered her in the back of her mind. It left a question in her mind. She couldn't focus on it as she returned to the village to prepare. She called her associates. They gathered their equipment. A crew of six were ready as they boarded the _Orwell_ and set off before dawn.

They waited for three hours. The Researchers never came.

She would eventually learn Commander Rolan had departed for Mistral at nightfall, almost twelve hours ago.

..._It was just a kiss_, she told herself.

0-0-0

Ancile was a large island off of the southern coast of Anima. It was roughly 4500 square miles of tropical splendor that had once been the home of one of Mistral's most ancient noble houses. It had survived the Color Revolution, the Great War, and Mistral's reformation of the nobility. Though the noble house no longer had any official power in the government, they were still wealthy and influential in society.

It helped having their home be one of the best vacation spots with the best hotels and casinos. The rich and powerful from all over Remnant came here. As such, there was a hefty budget in the security of the island from raiders from the mainland, pirates from Vacuo and Menagerie, and, naturally, the Grimm. There was an underwater fence surrounding the island from aquatic Grimm, automated turrets on buoys and towers for aerial Grimm, and retired and young huntsmen fresh from Haven Academy to patrol the wildlands of the island.

The island was a paradise. Other than the occasional notice of a random Grimm appearing or activating the defenses, the locals had gotten lax. It had been decades since a serious raid from the Grimm had transpired. With negativity being an all-time low, they had nothing to worry about.

"We have activity at Shield-47," one such security personnel announced in the main surveillance room. Her voice was bland and bored, having to report this and not expecting any other excitement just like the hundred others.

She slouched in her seat and stared at the screen in front of her. One of the couple hundred dots blinked red. Then… another. "Activity at Shield-48. Shield-46. 43 to 51! Shield-47 has been destroyed! 48 destroyed! Multiple Shields destroyed! WE HAVE A BREACH!"

Something was attacking the underwater net. It was rare for any points of the net to be breached as it was made of reinforced Atlesian steel and powered with enough dust to cook anything it touched. It had killed countless Grimm before. But to destroy not one point of the net but several? This was either a monstrous Grimm of legend or a literal army of them.

"Spears-42 to 52 have targeted aerial Grimm," announced another surveyor with alarm and fear in his voice. His eyes were frantic as he looked at multiple monitors. "Spear-47 destroyed. Spear-48... 49, 46, 47 destroyed."

Not just from the ocean but also from the air?! And since when were Grimm smart enough to attack the turrets before getting blown out of the sky?

"This is a Code Black!" the floor leader, who was on duty in the stead of the actual head of security for the day, started to hammer away at her own terminal. "Evacuation orders are being broadcast. Calling all huntsmen. Sending distress calls. Bring me visuals! I need eyes, people!"

"Drones deployed," another personnel announced as he put in a few commands at his board.

The large screen at the front of the room changed from surveying the streets and casinos to the multiple dozen drones flying through the air. Other screens showed the defensive towers and what buoys that remained but were out of firing range.

There was a heavy silence as everyone froze and stared at the multiple monitors.

0-0-0

"You and I both know you don't actually have a plan," Alice said at his back. She had her back to him, using him as a rest rather than to steady herself, and tied them together with a bungee cord so as to not fall off the Griffon. She read her book the entire trip.

It was late afternoon. They had been riding since the sun fell in Menagerie, through the darkness, and past dawn. Breaks had been made to let the Ninth Orchestra rest as well as to create more Grimm masks. It had been sixteen hours when a scout told him they were approaching land.

The Ninth Orchestra cheered and sang. Some sort of note he had heard before. They did it again, this time louder than before as they used their Aura to amplify it. He heard it a lot more clearly this time. Then came the third cry. Now he recognized it. Then, they sang, Alice included:

"_Valhalla I am coming!"_

A fucking Led Zeppelin song. Fucking Isaac.

"I have an idea," Chase said to her, his voice altered by the acoustics of his mask as well as its dark influence. He hadn't taken it off since the start of the journey. "You're the one with the plan."

"Yeah, I know what you want," she snapped, shutting the book suddenly. "You just don't make it easy for me. Don't forget what you owe me."

"Do your damn job, vice-commander," he growled back.

"And you do yours," she huffed back and adjusted her mask as if they were the pair of glasses she wore underneath. She began to undo the band around her waist. "Now if you'll excuse me, I have a fish to catch."

She slid off the side of the Griffon and fell several hundred feet. He didn't bother to look back to see how her landing went. Alice was harder to kill than a cockroach.

No. There was a better analogy for her. She was the Lego piece that the foot of Fate stepped on. Yeah, that was more her.

Half an hour later, the ocean beneath them started to turn from cyan to a dark green, and then to black. Ahead, his eyes could make out the tips of a volcanic summit rising over the horizon. Soon, he saw tall buildings. The black beneath the water rushed forward, moving faster than his Griffon could fly. It was momentarily halted as it hit some kind of barrier.

There was a flash at the water's surface. Two seconds later did something explode in the air close enough for him to feel the shock and heat. Instinct to shield himself with Aura as well as his Researcher coat saved him from the worst of it. He focused his Aura to his eyes and spotted several structures floating in the water. Each one was the size of a small house with a turret sticking out of its roof. They formed a ring around the island.

They opened fire on him and his immediately.

"Burn!" he bellowed, tightening his grip on the reins of his Griffon and making his broken hand flare up in pain. He channeled that pain into his rage. He could feel reality around him bend and twist as soon as he uttered that single word.

The projectiles detonated prematurely. Not a single one hit them.

It didn't stop the barrage, however.

"Burn!" he shouted again. A second wave of heat swept down, superheating the projectiles and detonating them long before reaching his fleet. The wave crashed down, blowing steam up into the air and making the turrets glow. Two blew up after their next rounds detonated within the barrel.

He wasn't the only one retaliating, though he was the most effective. The Ninth unleashed blasts of fire, focused rays of sunlight, and wild streams of electricity. Some hit their mark and destroyed a turret or two. Others did nothing more than deflecting or detonating the projectiles.

The rest missed entirely. They were too high up in the air to aim accurately. But the turrets didn't have any such restriction. Heavy artillery detonated around them. Aura and their coats protected them from the shock but a direct hit would kill them without question. At least the Grimm were durable enough to tank a shot or two.

They were useless like this. Fine. There was a saying about doing something right.

"Incinerate!" he pointed a finger at the center turret several hundred feet away from him. A stream of fire shot out from the tip and took just as long as the projectiles to reach it. Two seconds. The turret began to melt like butter before exploding.

He dragged his finger across the air, pointing at every turret and bringing the stream around. It cut through them like a laser. Some merely collapsed on themselves while others blew up. He cut the power, switched sides, and repeated the process for the rest of the turrets firing at them. He made sure to destroy the next ones over, even when they weren't firing at him due to their limited range. Better safe than getting shot from behind.

It had cost him a quarter of his power to do this much. Twenty-fucking-five percent! All the energy he stole from Menagerie was depleted in two attacks. He still had his natural reserves as well as the pain he had been gathering from his hand. He had, at most, two major attacks, ten minor attacks, and a few dozen small bursts left. That was assuming he wasn't burning through his Aura in defense or physical enhancements.

There was also the constant drain to control the Grimm.

He kicked his heels against the Griffon and commanded it to push forward. It hissed at him but complied, flapping its wings hard against the current to fly faster towards land. The Ninth Orchestra cheered and followed after him in a triangle formation.

As well as the three dozen other Griffons, four dozen miscellaneous flying monsters, and thousands of raven-like Grimm they had gathered.

The island of Ancile was beautiful, lush with tropical green forests that reached all the way to the top of its mountain. On one side was a metropolitan city with skyscrapers, a carnival, an airport, and a beach resort. On the other was the more commercial side that included the docks, warehouses, and small foundries.

He debated whether to land at the docks or at the town center when Alice made the decision for him.

Merfolk Grimm rose out of the shores and climbed onto the docks. The small army of armed men (armed with oversized weapons often found in video games) formed a line and were ready for a fight.

The water rose quickly as a gargantuan Grimm burst out of the surface. A sea serpent, closer to an eastern dragon, sent a wave onto the docks and knocked over both the first wave of merfolk Grimm as well as the guards. The beast was long enough to wrap itself around one of the cruise ships on the other side of the island with fangs as long as Chase was tall.

Standing on the very top of its cranium was Alice, holding onto one of its horns for stability.

The water receded and the guards were on the ground and scattered, their formation easily broken. Some were quick to rise but others were prone, paralized with fear.

The dragon Grimm lowered its head, opened its maw, and let out a deafening roar. Spittle flew in bucket loads. He saw some of the guards scream in terror. Others searched for any signs of hope or divine intervention among the encroaching sea of black. He saw some pass out.

He also saw Alice's shoulders shaking. She was giggling.

"Enough!" his voice boomed through his Aura. "Stand down!"

Immediately, the merfolk stopped their approach. The Ninth Orchestra hovered in the air. And the dragon drew its head back. He commanded his Griffon forward and it obeyed.

He landed on the docks, between the merfolk and the downed guards. He saw them stare at him in shock, in fear, and in confusion. He let them as he took them in. They were all fit with useful muscle, some lean and some bulky, but none of them exaggerated and over bloated like weightlifters. No, these were like the warriors he came across in Ilyvander.

So these were huntsmen. Despite their position, he knew better than to fight them in direct confrontation. He would easily lose if it ever came to a straight melee.

He commanded the Griffon to approach. _Slowly_, he urged. It resisted at first, wanting to tear them apart just as much as it had with Callows. Eventually it obeyed his will and took steady steps forward. It kept its head bowed as it hissed at the huntsmen. Some crawled backwards while others stood quickly and drew their weapons— monstrous pieces of metal that should weigh more than them.

"Is this how you treat your guests?" he growled, making his Griffon turn so they could get a better look at him. "Shoot first without warning? I hope for your sake it's not some asinine reason such as coming from Menagerie."

He released a tiny sliver of control over the Griffon. It hissed and snapped its beak at the nearest huntsman, who leapt away and nearly forced those behind him to stumble. He reeled it back right away.

"...Most guests need a reservation six months in advance," one of the huntsmen answered and then immediately winced as if he were about to get them all killed. The guy was only a few years older than Chase but had the maturing look of someone much younger.

He snorted anyways.

"I am Chase Lance Rolan, Commander of the Researcher Symphonies," he announced, his voice booming again from both his Aura as well as the Grimm's influence. "We are a new military unit stationed in Menagerie and have come with a proposal for the island of Ancile. Until a proper representative can be reached, we have demands of our own. My men are tired from the long journey and need nourishment. Bring us food and water and I will ignore the slight you've done onto us."

There was a pause, which he expected. A stunned silence. They still haven't come to terms with the fact the mindless beasts of Grimm had been tamed.

"Y-You brought Grimm!" someone shouted.

A fair response. And one he was used to as an Acolyte. He knew he was going to get shot at the moment they were spotted. All his men did.

He dipped his head towards the group in understanding. Then he raised a hand into the air and commanded, "Return to the ocean!"

He had no control over this specific type of Grimm. But Alice did. Without a word or gesture from her, she commanded the merfolk to turn and sink back into the watery depths. Those on land dove in an orderly fashion until the docks were cleared of their ilk. The dragon Grimm sank down and lowered its head until its jaw rested on one of the extending docks. Alice walked off its snout and leapt down. She patted its maw lovingly, like a precious pet, before it retracted itself and slithered into the ocean. It would take her a minute for her to reach his side.

The Ninth Orchestra were still in the air with Griffons, some feathered serpent Grimm (Alice called them Quetzalcoatl), Manticores, giant eagles, and thousands of ravens. Though, they were unimportant at the moment.

What was important was his display, or the act of it as it had been Alice instead who commanded the Grimm. To the huntsman, it showed that he could control their natural enemies.

"We're simple creatures," he told them during their mindless stupor of shock. "Burgers, fries, and some fruit."

"And a milkshake!" Alyse called out, having heard him despite not using Aura to amplify his voice this time.

He tightened the reins as his annoyance spiked to the edge of anger. He almost lashed out for speaking out of term and nearly breaking the illusion of his intimidation. But then he remembered it was _Alice_.

"Do not keep us waiting," he told the huntsmen. He then brought his arm around in a circular pattern over his head, the gesture for 'wrap up'. "Ninth Orchestra, land, disembark, and assemble! Grimm, disperse!"

It took them a moment to carry out his order. While he controlled the much larger Grimm, it took the entirety of the Ninth to control that many ravens. They gave their commands to the birds, unifying their wills against the birds, and forced them to return from where they captured them. The black birds took off in almost random directions, but not one of them flew further into the island. Only when they were gone did the Ninth descend and land on the docks. They slid off of their mounts and had no shame in groaning and stretching their sore bodies.

Chase remained on his Griffon. He didn't want to look weak in any way… no matter how badly his legs were screaming at him from both chafing against the saddle as well as being bowed for so long.

0-0-0

He wasn't surprised to have his request fulfilled. They were treating him and his just as Menagerie had when they first arrived— on eggshells with the smallest mistake potentially bringing about the island's end. It took no more than half an hour for them to get what they wanted… including an assortment of milkshakes per Alice's request for all of them.

What surprised him was the level of hospitality. A staff team in pressed and Vegas-worthy uniforms came into the docks and began to set up a venue for them. All of which, he noted, were very attractive men and women. Tables, chairs, covers, tropical flowers, and umbrellas were assembled in a flash. The swiftness was, without a doubt, due to the absolute terror each staff member had for them. After all, the remaining Grimm were resting thirty feet away from the venue. The team of huntsmen were still around, keeping an eye on them, but knew they were out of their league and wanted to be anywhere else.

The Ninth took three tables while he and Alice, the officers, took one up for themselves.

"Why did you choose the docks?" he asked Alice while she munched on her fries. While the Ninth had removed their Grimm masks, to fully enjoy a meal that wasn't bland or dry for a change, he and Alice kept theirs on.

"You ever see those people in the park with, like, twenty dogs on a leash?" she answered, her mouth stuffed with fries and getting fuller while she spoke.

He understood completely. Alice didn't have any experience controlling that many Grimm at once. Maybe a dozen back when they introduced themselves to Menagerie, but not a good hundred. Especially if she had to focus on the much bigger alpha, the sea-dragon. She must have lost control briefly.

"I kinda like it," she said as she looked around. Her attention swiveled around the staff— making them stiffen to the point of petrification, and he had no doubt she didn't see them— and she eyed the docks. "The docks, I mean. I'm tired of sand. And it's much cooler here. Why can't we make a base here? There's a carnival on the other side!"

"I doubt the people would be as tolerable of us as Menagerie," he told her flatly. "I also don't understand why it's cooler when we're closer to the equator."

"I don't actually think we're closer to the equator," she tapped her lips with a fry. "I think the world is tilted… or, rather, straight in orbit. When compared to ours, I mean. The line between snowy areas and dry deserts is really weird. So when the planet turns, the sun goes diagonally rather than across."

"Sun still rises from the east and sets in the west," he pointed out.

"Does it?" she challenged. "Or do we think it does according to our standards? Our west might not be the same as theirs. Their west might be a completely different direction. To the left of the map, maybe, but maybe more north-west to us."

She demonstrated by making a cross with two sticks of fries. The lines were straight, signifying their compass. As she continued to speak, she tilted the lines a fraction clockwise, turning the deep fried compass ever so slightly.

"If that's the case then their maps make no sense," he grumbled, scratching the underside of his chin. He would have scratched his brow but the mask was in the way.

"They do to them. It's their world, not ours," she shrugged. "It can also be due to wind currents, warm and cold water currents, volcanic activities, meteors shifting entire climates—" she said something else but stuffed her face with another fry. "But what do I know? You're better off asking the Sixth to look into it… if they aren't pulling their hair out over it already. Maybe Pinky since she comes from another world too?"

He lazily waved a few fingers in the air. It wasn't important or relevant at the moment. Just a mild curiosity. Let someone else fuss over it.

Alice finished her meal, wiped her hands clean with an offered hot towel, and went back to reading her book.

"Don't you get tired of reading the same thing?" he asked, mostly to make a small conversation while they waited.

"I've read all my books at least a hundred times," she quipped, annoyed at having to be interrupted.

"Yeah but you usually take breaks between them," he commented. "You rotate. What are you even reading?"

"Eclipse," she answered, huffed, and slammed the book shut. "You know what I had to do to get this book. The only thing that pisses me off is that I'll never know how the series ends. Unless we find a way to open a portal back to Earth when she publishes the last book."

"We're not going back to Earth," he shook his head, his voice low. He felt the Grimm behind him raise their heads, drawn in by his sudden spike in negativity. It made the huntsmen and staff tense. A mental command later had the Grimm laying back down. It didn't make their hosts relax one bit.

"Then I've no choice but to find a writer here and make them finish the series for me," she sighed dramatically. And then immediately began to bounce in her seat. "Maybe have Jacob and Alice get together?! And have him and Edward wipe out the Volturi?!"

"At that point it's just fanfiction," he threw up a hand.

"No it's not!" she stopped bouncing to glare at him. "Not if I find a professional writer."

"About a series that's not there's."

"So was the Star Wars expanded universe!"

"Careful, Nyte. That almost sounded treasonous."

"Half the Researchers would agree with me that Star Trek is better."

"No, _all _the Researchers would prefer Star Wars. Those that say otherwise are already dead or soon to be."

"I'm the only person you can't kill— without cheating!" she quickly added that last part. "And I still say Star Trek is better. And sometimes fanfiction is better than the source material. Like Naruto. Or Harry Potter. Or My Little Pony."

"Fanfiction is trash in general…" he grumbled and shook his head. Why was he having this conversation with her? Oh wait. That's right. He started it.

He looked at her when she didn't say anything. She glared at him, sitting still with a blizzard brewing in her gaze. "Take that back."

"I've read the stories you've recommended," he leaned forward, elbows propped and hands cupped under his chin. "Gayest shit ever. And most of those positions aren't physically possible."

"...I still think young Tom and Harry were a good pair," she muttered sourly before huffing and snapping her book back open. "It's not about the smut. It's about the shipping."

He decided to let the conversation drop from there. Arguing further would only make his migraine grow. How he wanted to bleach his brain right now, remembering things that were so stupid and disturbing. The things teenage amateurs come up with in their free time! He read everything just to ridicule her— something that Isaac and Marla made fun of him for time and again. He didn't regret it, if only so she wouldn't have an excuse to shrug off his complaints about it.

They sat there in silence for another half an hour. A server would come to refill their drinks before hurrying off, making as little contact with them as possible. He didn't ask if they wanted more food or anything, which was fine. Some of the men might have wanted more but… tough.

He might have been upset because of Alice. As the only female of the party, the server for their table had been a muscular man. She enjoyed it. He didn't. There was a nice, meek blonde that reminded him of—

He cut that idea before it could finish.

Eventually, a cart approached from the northern side of the docks. It was the only activity aside from the drones that buzzed around in the air. In the cart was a driver in the standard staff uniform with a burly, heavily armed man in shotgun. In the back was a middle aged man in a light blue suit with a much, _much _younger blonde woman in a form fitting dress.

As in the ages between Alice and Sienna. Strike that— they were the same age. As in the _apparent _ages between Alice and Sienna. The girl was in her mid to late teen years.

He heard Alice sigh in annoyance under her breath as she shut her book. She didn't have to look to know someone important had approached. Either from his own body language or her acute hearing.

They rose together out of their seats. As they did, the Ninth stood as well. They didn't move away from their table but just stood erect with their hands at their sides. They didn't do anything else as Chase and Alice stepped away from their table to approach the oncoming group.

The first to step out was the armored man— some grizzly middle-aged man with bulking muscles, samurai armor, and a katana that put Monster Hunter players to shame. It was something better built for a giant literally three times his size. He gave Chase and Alice a momentary cautious glance before his attention focused more on the Grimm behind them.

The man in the suit stepped out of the cart and held a hand for the young girl to take and, like a fragile princess, took a cautious step onto the asphalt one toe at a time. After that, the man offered her his arm, which she clutched one hand at his elbow, and led her towards her. The three of them approached.

"Salutations and welcome to the paradise island of Ancile," the man spoke before they could, which was something Chase preferred. It let him study the man's behavior, however briefly. "I am Numa Pompilius, sacred keeper of these lands. This is my fiancee, Egeria Marrywood—"

The teenage girl gave several enthusiastic waves to their possible conquerors in Grimm masks.

"And my bodyguard and old friend, Swift Celery," the man, Numa, continued, gesturing to the third member of his entourage.

The armored man dipped his head the smallest of margins, his eyes focused on the Grimm.

Alice, naturally, couldn't (or wouldn't) hold back the snort at the man's name. Thankfully it went ignored.

"Numa Pompilius," Chase spoke firmly. His warped voice made them all tense, though Numa showed the best deception at being unbothered. "I am Chase Lance Rolan, Commander of the Researcher Symphonies. At my side is the vice-commander, Alice Nyte. My escorts are the Ninth Orchestra of our order. We have come here to open up a trading deal."

Numa said nothing briefly as he studied Chase just as much. The difference in height was laughable (apparently _everyone _on this planet was over six feet) but the gravitas could arguably be the same. Oh, Chase knew he could easily kill this man, Grimm or not. But the actual gravity came from his worth. He owned this island, owned the huntsmen and staff nearby, and more than likely owned many of the businesses nearby. He had connections.

Numa knew this. He saw this in Chase's eyes through the Grimm mask. And Chase knew he knew. With that, the two of them were squaring off, measuring each other's weight.

"Wow!" squealed the girl, Egeria, from his side. "So you're, like, a band? You can control the Grimm through the power of music?"

He looked away from Numa to answer this girl, in a simple and non-chastising way. He didn't want to insult his host just yet. "Hilariously, hardly any of us are musically talented. Our name comes from our founder, who was obsessed with music."

"...I don't get it," she pouted. "How's that funny?"

"Because it's not."

"...Huh?" her face scrunched up as if her mind didn't have that much processing power.

"Names aside," Numa put a hand over his fiancee's to settle her down. He regarded Chase warily. He huffed once, held the girl's hand tighter, and swallowed. She noticed and tried to ease him with another hand over his. "You've made quite the spectacle with your appearance. My best men were thwarted by your entry. I've no means of defending my people against an army of Grimm. We are at your tender mercies. What are your demands, Commander Rolan?"

Too easy. Way too easy. _Way _too easy.

The man was full of shit but apparently wasn't leaking via buttplug. Chase almost bought into his frightful expression. Well, no, not almost. He had considered him telling the truth at best. But, realistically, his paranoia wouldn't let him accept this. A second look told him everything.

Also peering into his mind helped. The man had already called for a few favors. A contact from Atlas promised… something. Flying ships. Heavy artillery. Robots?

It was hard to get the full picture without forcing his mind open further. He might have to at some point. All he got were quick flashes based on the words Numa said.

But if there _were _robot soldiers in this world… he wanted those.

"Tell me something, Mister Pompilius," Chase crossed his arms and pretended to not know any better. "What is your standing with Menagerie?"

"Why…" Numa paused, feigned fear, and bowed his head, "Not as well as we like, I'm afraid. We do what we can and offer trade with them but… they're quite the poor country. There's only so much we can do for them."

"Those poor animals…" Egeria sighed heavily. What bothered him the most… she actually meant it. She had genuine pity for the people of Menagerie.

Chase made a show to study Numa's expression. He had his response ready before the man answered. "Let's not play these games. I don't actually care what you think about those furries. But we do happen to live there. And, like you said, Menagerie _is _a very poor country. And you are so very rich."

Numa's eyes turned hard and cold for a flash. Any normal man would have missed it. But, it would seem, he had been able to see through the mask enough and notice Chase's age. He was looking down on him.

He wondered if he should kill the huntsman right in front of him as a show of power. No, the man had suddenly tensed as if reading Chase's intent. He was sharper than the other sheep in the far back. He'd most likely react as soon as Chase drew up his power. Plan… what letter was he on…? Plan T it was.

"The deal is very simple," Chase uncrossed one arm to lift a hand in the air, his frosted arm. He ignored the way Egeria admired it. "This island shall forever be protected from the Grimm and you will supply us with resources we need. Simple things like metal, food, fabrics, etcetera."

Whatever reply Numa had was put on hold as Swift threw an arm over him and his fiancee and pushed them back. His other hand shot up towards the hilt of the blade on his back.

Chase ordered one of the Griffons to rise up and approach. Slowly and steadily. Though, as the day dragged on, it felt like he was digging in his heels to keep the beast from rushing forward. It came until it was directly behind Chase. It bowed its head, almost resting it on his shoulder.

The people around him would never know how close they were to dying. This beast wanted to rip them all to shreds. Swift was ready to attack and almost launched into action. Numa was afraid, and showed it, but trusted his bodyguard well. And Egeria… was awed by it.

Chase put a hand on its mask and petted it softly. He looked directly at Numa as he spoke, "Perhaps, as our strength grows, we might be able to offer you a more beneficial deal."

Whatever Numa had to say before was forgotten. The man was considering his options again. However… there was the flash again in his mind. Chase saw it a little more clearly. He saw an armada of flying ships. Numa, as greedy as he was, was still a cautious man. He was still favoring the white army of Atlas.

Well, whether he sided with them or not was irrelevant. The rest was up to Alice.

"I leave you with the vice-commander to discuss specifics," Chase said and forced the Grimm back towards the docks. It moved away from him, turned… and slapped him with its tail feathers. Alice ducked before it could hit her. Egeria laughed.

His impression with Numa fell. Whatever. The man was a tool. This entire island was a tool. He needed Ghira more than this overpriced brothel.

"Now if you'll excuse me, I have another Orchestra waiting for me on the mainland," Chase adjusted his mask and turned sharply. No one stopped him.

As loath as he was to do it, he mounted the Griffon once more. His body immediately ached in protest. He ignored it as he took the reins and kicked in his heels. The Griffon growled like a dog but lowered its head and began to run. It flapped its wings and took to the air as soon as enough speed was made.

He directed it north, towards the continent of Anima.

0-0-0

Jeremy knew he had fucked up somewhere along the way. He racked his brain about it constantly throughout his shifts, during his breaks, during his sleep, and what other times there were that could and couldn't be afforded. The only time he didn't think about it was that one moment he accepted it, cringed, and then rejected that acceptance.

The king was following him around like a puppy.

It wasn't even a full hour after their meeting before she came out of her hole.

She wouldn't say much. An opinion or two. Some dry commentary. A question. But beyond that? She would stick at his side at every possible chance and just… watch.

He was fine with it at first. He didn't think about it as Regina approached him, said… something about acting her age that he zoned out, and said she had taken his words to heart. She wanted to know more about the Researcher Symphonies— which _was _what he suggested. So she kept quiet as he made his rounds throughout the rest of the voyage.

Albert used the excuse of protecting them from the Grimm to avoid any contact with them. Which might have been true. But Pinky was nowhere to be seen and always had a convenient excuse whenever he sent her a message via pendant.

It was only two days but it was _constant_.

A small, insignificant, hardly noticeable part of him was glad when he received a new message through his pendant. Oh, he latched onto the thing immediately when he felt it vibrate. Only… he wasn't so thrilled by _who _had sent it.

"What is it?" Regina asked with genuine concern.

She gasped when he fell to his knees and slammed his head against the railing. He was tired. So very tired. He should have traded jobs with Albert. Mundane human or not, keeping the Grimm at bay would have been easier than dealing with the king.

It wasn't that she was annoying. Far from it. It was just that he had to be absolutely, perfectly spotless around her. It was exhausting! He couldn't make _any _mistakes! No hesitations and no stammering in his words!

He had to be in what he called 'combat mode' the entire rest of the trip. It did a number on his psyche and he was at his end.

He put up a hand for her and raised his pendant to his lips, "Attention all Researchers. All hands on deck. Reinforcements abound." He then dropped it and told Regina, "Can you do me a favor and tell the captain reinforcements are coming via Grimm? He seems to like you and I don't want the Menagerians to panic."

"Oh, uh, sure…" she said slowly before inching away and then hurrying off to follow his request.

He sagged there for a moment. How did Chase do it? How was he so serious twenty-four-seven? This was the first time Jeremy could relax and it wasn't even the right time to be. There was Albert with Steph, giving him both pitying and questionable glances. He was the current team leader and here he was on his knees.

He took in a deep breath and stood back up. He gripped the railing as he looked out into the ocean. They were only half a day off from Ancile and still had another half to reach Anima. He wanted to get off this boat.

More Researchers came, including the treacherous Pinky. They paid him no mind as they assembled in a group towards the center of the deck. He finally released his grip and fixed his coat.

Regina came back to him, breath excited from the short sprint to the navigation room. "I've informed the captain. How many are we expecting?"

"One," he replied.

Blissful silence. No, not blissful. He cursed himself as his bleeding heart had him looking at her in concern. His eyes burned when he saw her worried look.

"One? As in… one Orchestra?"

"No, one as in…" he said and then pointed up at the sky.

A shadow flew over them.

He turned and headed towards the only area large enough to accept their reinforcement. There was a space where some of the containers had been knocked around from the fight days ago. A Griffon swooped down, blew wind in its descent, and landed hard onto the deck. Its rider grunted and remained stationary.

"At attention!" Jeremy shouted and saluted. He heard the uniformed motion of the other Researchers behind him. He heard Regina follow quickly after. "Commander on sight!"

Commander Chase Rolan slid off of the Griffon and slouched with clear exhaustion. He had a hand on the side of the Grimm to keep himself upright. The beast had snapped out of its daze and became aware of its surroundings. It craned its head around and bore its fangs at Chase.

"Burst."

There was a red flash from the hand on the Griffon's side. It didn't have the chance to notice as flames swept through it, instantly incinerating it and dissolving into black ash. Chase's arm fell as his head dropped slightly. He grunted and forced himself to stand straight right after.

"Welcome aboard, commander," Jeremy said through a cautious tone. "Shall I have the Tenth attend to you?"

"No," Chase said quickly as he approached. His steps were heavy as he reached for his mask. "The trip was long, that's all. I need a moment to gain my sea legs."

He heard Regina gasp as soon as Chase removed the mask. Jeremy couldn't withhold the wince. Black veins were clawing at the edges of Chase's face as if they were trying to reach the center of his brow and take control of him. His red and blue eyes shone brightly but the sclera had turned completely black.

With the mask gone, they could all see the black corruption shrink back. However, by the rate, it might take an hour or two before they completely vanished. If at all.

"Sir, I must insist," Jeremy pleaded.

"Noted," Chase said as he tossed the mask aside. It shattered as soon as it hit the deck and became black mist. He reached them with a few more steps. He stopped, placed his hands behind his back, and studied Jeremy. "I received your message, though some of the transmission was misplaced. I want a full debriefing before we make it to shore."

"...Sir," he said with hesitant affirmation.

Chase glanced at Regina. Jeremy could not see her face and would not turn away from Chase to tell. All he saw was Chase's dead stare, as if he were staring at a piece of litter on the side of the road.

He didn't know why that bothered him so much.

"Seventh Symphony!" Chase dismissed Regina and circled around Jeremy. "I want to see the prisoner. Take me to him at—"

Something red appeared beside Regina— a flat disk that rested vertically in the air and had no problem following them despite the ship's speed. A portal? He could make out faint images through it.

The entire company went into alert mode. Aura flared on the deck thick enough to distort the air and send sparks of electricity in five different colors. Jeremy pushed Regina back and stepped around her. He readied himself in a defensive stance.

A body was thrown out, falling flat onto the deck. The red portal began to shut when it was halfway through and finished the moment the heel of their boot was out.

The body was slender with long, wild black hair, fair skin, and dressed in some kind of… half kimono? He'd have to ask someone else for the actual term. At least she had shorts underneath. He also noted she had plate armor that favored her arms and chest, a katana with an exceptionally thick sheath…

And a Grimm mask.

The figure clawed at the deck and rose on weak arms until she could lift her torso. Another scan of her figure showed her to be wounded and bleeding. Red eyes shone through the Grimm mask, though not in the way an Acolyte's would have. They searched all of their persons… but landed directly on Regina.

There came a pause. It only lasted a second but in that second Jeremy knew something.

This woman knew the king.

A boot made contact with her face before a word could be exchanged. Chase's boot, exactly. He used his Aura to cross the distance, enhance his strength, and kicked her square in the jaw. It was hard enough to send the woman tumbling. Her blood trailed behind.

She didn't move after that.

"What are you doing?!" Regina shrieked.

"New orders," Chase ignored her entirely as he turned halfway to the Researchers. He made sure to keep an eye on the downed figure. "Tenth, make sure she doesn't die here. Seventh, once she is done with her diagnosis, take… our new guest to a secure area for questioning. Master Ultimo, escort Her Majesty to her quarters for her security."

"I don't need protection from a woman you just—" Regina began to argue.

Chase was upon her before she could blink. He Aura-stepped into her guard and gripped her jaw with a frozen hand. She could not speak with how hard he was squeezing her.

"Shut. Up." Frost escaped his lips with every word.

"Commander… Chase… stand down," Jeremy said, drawing up his own Aura. "That's Her Royal Majesty. Let her go or we will be forced to act."

The entirety of the Researchers were still, waiting to see what would happen next.

Chase's eyes swiveled towards Jeremy's. Absolute hate burned in that gaze. He wanted to rip off Regina's jaw right then and there.

He released her and stood straight. "You have your orders. Get her out of my sight."

He would not look at Regina. Not when she was on the ground and rubbing her cheeks. There were marks of where his hand had been. There might even be frostbite with how nasty it looked.

Jeremy didn't say anything as he went to Regina's side, grabbed her by the shoulders, and egged her back to her feet. She resisted at first, wanting to say something to Chase, but Jeremy put his hand over her mouth and urged her on. The urgency of his steps kept her silence, if only until they were at the stairs.

She shoved his hand aside. "Jeremy! You can't do this! He just attacked a defenseless woman and—"

"Quiet!" he hissed and forced her up the stairs. He'd drag her if she resisted or fell. "I know what he did. We all did. Just… go back to your room. It's for your protection, Your Majesty."

"From what?! That woman is clearly wounded! And Sixth Gener has been managing with the Grimm. I'm fine!"

He wasn't in the mood to correct any of her statements about Albert.

"It's to protect you from him, Regina," he said in a firmer voice. Her stunned moment allowed him to push her up the stairs a little easier. "It could be the Grimm influence. I've never seen it that bad before. But he's pissed about something. He looked ready to kill you. So please just follow me."

He was making excuses. Chase had killed for less before. He had seen it.

Regina was quiet for most of the way. Jeremy had a hand on her back the entire time. The captain of the ship was waiting at the hallway when they first entered and all Jeremy could offer the man was a raised hand. The captain could have interpreted it any way and, at the moment, Jeremy didn't care. The man swore under his breath and returned to his station.

"Hey, Jeremy?" Regina spoke as they headed back towards the dorms.

"Yes, Your Majesty?"

"You said I should try to understand where you come from. I'm trying. But this? This is too much. I don't like this."

"Don't worry," he breathed out. "I don't either."

The admission had her looking over her shoulder. Hurt and conflict was read in her eyes. "Then… why do you follow someone like that?"

He only needed a moment to consider his answer. No, he always had the answer. He just needed to find a way to word it so she could understand.

"We were once good people. Heroes. We slew monsters. But then, the people turned against us and began to hunt us down. We were desperate. So we chose to side with the one thing that ate people."

"...A monster," he heard her whisper.

Though she couldn't see, he nodded. He did not think about the way she answered or how easily it came to her. All he cared about was getting her out of Chase's attention.

They went the rest of the way in complete silence.


End file.
